


Flickering Embers

by Cerdic519



Series: The British Revolution [11]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: 17th Century, Army, Battle, Beheading, Berkshire, Boats and Ships, Caring, Danger, Deception, Devonshire, Durham - Freeform, England (Country), English Civil War, Escape, Exhaustion, F/M, Friendship, Gay Sex, Hampshire, Inheritance, London, Love, M/M, Murder, Nobility, Northumberland, Oxfordshire, Parliament, Politics, Religion, Royalty, Scheming, Scotland, Secrets, Servants, Somerset, Sussex, Warwickshire, Yorkshire, dorset
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:42:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 24,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26736808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: February 1649 to September 1651.The efforts of King Charles the Second to regain his father's thrones. Parliament and the Army are too strong for him and he ultimately fails – but in so doing he drags in a certain Oxfordshire couple one of whom helps him with his escape after the disaster at Worcester. And Stephen realizes dangerously late in the day that the dead sometimes do not stay dead.
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Quicksilver, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: The British Revolution [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1809640
Kudos: 4





	1. Contents

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CaptainSteeb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainSteeb/gifts).



A.D. 1649 (continued)  
 _138\. Winter Kindness_   
_139\. Blankety Blank_   
_140\. Decimation_   
_141\. Snowflakes And Sieges_

A.D. 1650  
 _142\. King's And Queen's_   
_143\. The Betrayed_   
_144\. Teaghlaich_   
_145\. Invasions_   
_146\. Triumph And Disaster_   
_147\. Death In The Cathedral_   
_148\. I Am Listening_   
_149\. Degrees Of Tolerance_

A.D. 1651  
 _150\. And On The Thirteenth Day_   
_151\. The Three Hundred And Thirty-Five Years' War_   
_152\. The Great Escape (I)_   
_153\. The Great Escape (II)_   
_154\. The Great Escape (III)_

MDCXLIX-MDCLXI


	2. Winter Kindness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February-March 1649.   
> The country ends up being run by a Council of State, while Stephen is just in a state after his lover had had his way with him yet again. The nobleman shows winter charity to some local lawbreakers and young Edward Bradstock (as he is now officially) again proves a sharp young fellow. Meanwhile the late king's eldest son formally declares himself King Charles the Second, so now all he has to do is conquer the Three Kingdoms. Easy!

**February 1649**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“It really is kind of appropriate, when you think about it.”

Stephen glared at the smirking bastard who was most regretfully out of swatting distance. Not that he could have hit him without having to move certain body parts which were once again not on speaking terms with the rest of him. With the king's trial having hung over the whole of January his insatiable lover had decided to vent his suppressed urges at the start of the second month. He had as usual asked Stephen's permission, and the nobleman's treacherous mouth had said yes before his brain could stop it.

Which was why he was now taking the best part of a whole minute to sit down, his abused backside protesting the whole way. And still wearing the harness to show how much he was owned by the bastard half a mile away across the room.

He was so damn lucky!

“What is?” he demanded tetchily, wincing at how loud his own voice sounded.

“Parliament has voted to allow back those excluded at the Purge”, Jamie said with another smirk, “provided they refute their opposition to the new regime. The Rump may start to look like a proper parliament – just as your rump looks like it is all mine!”

Stephen finally made it down onto his padded chair with only the very slightest manly exclamation of surprise, and sighed happily.

“So”, his lover said, “looking forward to our ride round the estate later?”

Stephen's eyes widened in shock at such a prospect, and he sat up maybe a little too fast.

“AAAAIIIEEEEE!!!!!”

“Perhaps we had better make that tomorrow”, Jamie grinned.

“You can go off people, you know!” Stephen grumbled.

“I have some of that special unguent from London?”

On the other hand, Stephen supposed that he could tolerate the bastard's presence for a little longer. Although if he suggested going back upstairs to their room to apply the stuff, the nobleman would have him thrown out into the snow! It had taken him an age to get downstairs earlier, and he was definitely thinking of having the staircase carpeted. Very soon!

MDCXLIX

**February 1649**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“You really are a pushover, Ste.”

The nobleman scowled.

“What else could I do?” he asked crossly. “I know that it was illegal but I could hardly turn them out into the snow, could I?”

The two had come back from a trip round the estate, the first for some days given the heavy snowfalls throughout the first week of the second month. As Stephen had suspected their unexpected arrival had surprised many of their workers, and had caught out one family in Wolfstown who had been housing the owner's brother and sister-in-law from London, their having fled the capital having been made homeless. Squatting was against the law and something which, had the nobleman been so minded (as he knew many in his position would have been), he could have thrown them and their relatives off the estate. Instead he had agreed that the newcomers could have a small shack over in Byteby which, although it would need major repairs once this weather had passed, would at least be a roof over their heads.

“It is a good thing that old misery Grayland is no longer around”, Jamie chuckled. “He would likely have had a conniption over such intolerable liberality towards the great unwashed!”

Stephen had to smile at his lover's tone.

“Ned Owens is a decent worker”, he said, “and every man is obliged to stand by family. I am sure that had it not been for the dreadful snows he would have approached me about his brother's advent.”

“But you very generously did not push him on that”, Jamie observed. “I think that you deserve some... reward.”'

Stephen was about to say that he really did not when he caught the way in which his lover was looking at him. He gulped.

MDCXLIX

**February 1649**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“The Prince of Wales has assumed the title of Charles the Second”, Jamie told his lover as they lay in bed together the next day. “And the Commons has finally gotten round to abolishing the Lords. The country will be run by something called a Council of State.”

Stephen would have quipped that that was an odd spelling of the word 'Army', but that would have involved speech and after two major sessions with his sex maniac of a lover within barely a week of each other, he was not sure that he still had the ability to talk. Instead he just nodded feebly.

“So”, Jamie said, “up for more later?”

Stephen glared at him. Or rather he tried to glare at him. Moving all those facial muscles took a lot of work.

“I wonder if some of my countrymen might be persuaded into letting him make that title more of a reality”, Jamie mused, quite deliberately toying with his lover's nipples in a way that was.... damnably enjoyable! “That would make for a difficult situation. Scotland and England are separate countries and there is no reason why my homeland should abolish the monarchy just because London has.”

He began to work his way lower. Stephen prayed fervently; he was sure that there was not a drop of come left in his body by now, and he knew from painful experience that that old saying about 'coming on empty and hurting on full' was all too true!

“Then again, I cannot see the army here allowing the king back into Scotland”, Jamie said, smirking at his lover's terrified expression. “If he did become king of Scotland he would surely try to regain his English crown as well, for which they would never stand.”

He suddenly began to work on Stephen's cock, causing most of the blood in his lover's body to head for the scene of the action. The nobleman would have objected, but fortunately his body chose that moment to pass out.

MDCXLIX

**March 1649**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Edward was clearly surprised by the news.

“We have some grain left?” he asked. “I would have thought what with this dreadful winter we would have needed it all.”

“I budgeted when I bought the extra grain for this sort of thing”, Stephen said, “so yes. It is not much, but with Londoners facing both famine and unemployment the Commons has sent out a call for any help that people can spare.”

“Especially from Royalists who have not been fully mulched yet and wish to keep parliament's beady eye away from what is left of their estates!” Jamie muttered.

“You are very cynical, Mr. Buchanan”, Edward said reprovingly. “Thunor says so.”

“She is right”, the soldier said. “But then she is a woman, and they are usually right on most things.”

“Do I not know it!” the boy sighed. “Actually now that I mention it, there was something I wanted to ask Mr. Amerike. It concerns Mr. Fraser.”

“What is it?” Stephen asked.

“He is skilled at woodwork, I remember”, the boy said, “and I wondered if he might make me a jewel-box for Thunor. It would be for her birthday next month; something small and simple for our starting out as man and wife, then I can get her something larger once we are settled.”

“That is a dangerous thought there, Edward”, Jamie smiled.

“Why, sir?” the young man asked.

“Because once you give her that, she will expect you every year thereafter to give her something to go inside it!” the soldier said.

“I know”, Edward said simply. “No more worrying about what special present to get her each year; just some or other piece of jewellery.”

They both looked at the boy in surprise. He had been sharp indeed to have worked that one out!

MDCXLIX

**March 1649**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Hamilton and Holland have been executed for their part in the war”, Stephen told Jamie a week later, but they reprieved Norwich. Just.”

“A petition for clemency?” Jamie asked. His lover nodded.

“Parliament accepted Norwich's petition only on Lenthall's casting vote”, Stephen said. “He was incredibly fortunate; the roads must have cleared to allow enough of those restored members to reach London. He will have to go abroad but at least he has his life.”

“Unlike the late king”, Jamie said. “One of the news-sheets noted that they actually had to delay his execution because some sharp-eyed fellow in parliament realized that legally, they had to proclaim a new king once the old, one was dead, so he had to hold the axe while they rounded up enough members to nullify the law. As well as finding someone to do the deed.”

“Cromwell is all about the law”, Stephen said, “which was why he had the trial rather than having the king done to death in the Tower like Henry the Sixth¹. And then saying, 'you know that he just died of melancholy, right?'”

Jamie smiled at the wording.

“Parliament is worried about Prince Rupert, though”, Stephen went on. “He has those ships that defected during the war, and although he cannot take on our whole fleet he still might damage our trade. Especially with the Scilly Isles still holding out.”

“He will either privateer in the Channel or strike out for Ireland”, Jamie predicted. “The former is risky with all the ships we have, while the latter may work if the Irish can agree to support the so-called new king.”

Stephen snorted at that.

“They have had six years to agree back from when the prince's father was confidently expecting them to march to his rescue”, he said. “They are going to start agreeing with each other now, with the army lining up troops to go to deal with them? I do not think so!”

“That might well be what triggers it”, Jamie said. “There is nothing like an outside threat to make people band together, like parliament and the Covenanters did in those dark days back in Forty-Three. It could happen, Ste – and a fleet of enemy warships being added to the mix would be the last thing we need!”

MDCXLIX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) The mentally unbalanced king who caused the Wars of the Roses. The 'melancholy' reason was the once officially put out at the time but it was widely and probably correctly believed that his supplanter Edward the Fourth had him killed. It is thought by many (and claimed by Shakespeare) that Edward's brother and eventual successor Richard the Third did the killing, but he was almost certainly away from London at the time._


	3. Blankety Blank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March-May 1649.   
> Someone gets handed a blank piece of paper which seals their doom, and the House of Lords is abolished. The new regime easily bats aside any problems while the self-proclaimed King Charles the Second finds little support for his cause. There are some annoying Diggers and a certain Oxfordshire nobleman really does not wish to discuss his mother. Because.

**March 1649**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Cromwell tells me that the Monarchy and the Lords have been officially abolished”, Stephen told Jamie about a week later, “and that he has learned of the Scottish Commissioners meeting the prince over in the Netherlands.”

“It was unwise of them to try to come through England the first time they wanted to see him”, Jamie said, “though it was equally foolish of parliament to stop them. My countrymen have the right to talk to him after all, although I can see why Cromwell fears it may devolve into rather more than talk.”

“He sounds as glum as ever”, Stephen said, “although he veered dangerously near to sounding pleased that Pontefract has finally surrendered. I am sure that he has his men in and around the prince's court, watching for any attempts to get to this country.”

“Or to get that help he expects from his fellow rulers over there”, Jamie said. “Which, like his father and his long wished-for Irish help, he surely thinks is just around the corner.”

“That is like promising someone a present tomorrow”, Stephen said, “and twenty-four hours later telling them that tomorrow never comes.”

He suddenly realized that his lover was a whole lot closer to him that he had thought.

“Whereas you”, Jamie growled, “will be coming in about five minutes from now!”

Stephen would like it put on record that he uttered a manly cough. Not a terrified whine, whatever anyone smir.... said!

MDCXLIX

**April 1649**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Cobham”, Jamie said as he read his news-sheet. “That is somewhere south of London, I think. Kent or Surrey, do you know?”

“Surrey”, Stephen said. “Is it about the Diggers?”

“Yes”, Jamie said. “Another of these fringe religious groupings that have flourished in all this confusion; the trouble with this free thinking theory is that some people have some very strange free thoughts! This lot seem to have descended on a parcel of wild land and are trying to make a living out of it.”

“Good luck to them”, Stephen said. “I give them five minutes before some local landowner goes marching off to the Council of State to stop them from Lowering The Tone Of The Neighbourhood.”

“They did not need five minutes, according to this”, Jamie said. “The Council have already asked Fairfax to look into it.”

“He will probably enjoy that, being away from the politicking for a while”, Stephen said. “It speaks volume of his standing that he kept away from the king's trial yet not a man has a bad word to say about him. Had he supported the Levellers or some other rebel faction then things could have turned out very ill indeed.”

“Still, he must be looking for a way to retire from the scene”, Jamie said. “I have seen even the best leaders get like that; they reach a point where they simply cannot go on. I only hope that he manages it; he deserves to retire and to leave Ireland to Cromwell.”

“Poor Cromwell!” Stephen said.

“Poor Ireland!” Jamie sighed.

MDCXLIX

**April 1649**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Poyer, Laugharne... I do not know the other name here”, Stephen frowned. “An unusual one; Rice Powell.”

“I have heard of him”, Jamie said. “I think like so many with an odd name he was likely named for his mother's maiden name, like you had your grandmother's one for your middle name. What of him?”

“Someone clearly has a warped sense of humour”, Stephen said. “The three of them were found guilty by court-martial but it was decided that only one would be put to death as an example, and that they would draw lots to decide who it was. When they refused, a child was given three slips of paper and told to hand one to each man. Powell and Laugharne found that theirs had 'Life given by God' written on them but Poyer's was blank. He has been shot at Covent Garden.”

“At least sparing two lives¹”, Jamie said. “Better one than three deaths.”

“Also, Adey wrote to me”, Stephen said. “He asked after you, and says that our mother has not quite yet worn out poor Angus though she is working on it.”

“Poor old fellow”, Jamie said. “It must be hard, living with someone who wants sex every minute of the day.”

Stephen winced.

“Bucky!” he exclaimed. “That is my own mother!”

Jamie just chuckled.

MDCXLIX

**April 1649**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Some bad news from Ireland”, Stephen told his lover a couple of days later. “Rupert has gotten himself into Kinsale and is looking to block our trade to the New World.”

“A foolish move in my opinion”, Jamie said. “We have far more ships than he does, and can simply keep him in there until he has to come out.”

“You do not think that we should try to force our way in?” Stephen asked. 

His lover shook his head.

“Like Plymouth, it has a narrow approach that is well-guarded”, he said. “Unless we controlled those forts approaching would be foolhardy indeed, and if we did control the forts we would soon have the town which would force the prince to leave anyway. No, he will regret going there soon enough and we shall get him eventually. We just need to be patient.”

MDCXLIX

**May 1649**  
 **Chipping Norton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen and Jamie had gone north to inspect the estate's holding up in the north of the county. Of all the sights that they had expected to see there, the one which they encountered in the town square was certainly not on the list. A certain military relative.

Cromwell spoke briefly to one of his men who ushered the rest of the army onwards, then came over to see them.

“Fire-fighting again!” he grumbled. “A regiment up at Banbury mutinied because they had not got their pay; I scared the hell out of parliament and they magicked up a few thousand for me, but a few hundred of the troublemakers had already galloped off to try to rouse others down in Salisbury by the time I got there.”

“Money is still causing problems, then”, Stephen said. “It is most fortunate that we ran into you; my son came over with news yesterday and I was going to write to you when I got home. Your daughter is expecting again, some time in November.”

“That boy is quite the young dog”, the soldier observed, “but then some men are.”

He looked very pointedly at Jamie, who reddened.

“I had better be on my way”, Cromwell said, with something that looked rather too close to a smile. “Time and rebels wait for no man. Farewell, gentlemen.”

He tipped his hat to them and rode off after his disappearing men.

MDCXLIX

**May 1649**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“He caught up with the rebels at Burford, well before they got even halfway to Salisbury”, Stephen told Jamie a few days later. “He shot three of their leaders, all Levellers.”

“No drawing of lots this time then”, Jamie said. “An example; cross the big man and he will not be happy.”

“He will be off to Ireland soon”, Stephen said, “and let us hope that they are not so foolish as to cross him. They may not live to regret it if they do!”

“Talking of foreign affairs”, Jamie said, “I am disappointed in our prince. Did he honestly think that his enemies would fail to find out about his secret talks with the Pope?”

“To be fair he will get nothing out of France or Spain”, Stephen said, “as both are too busy going hammer and tongs at each other. And papal interference cost his father any chance of help from Ireland, ineffective as it would likely have been. Perhaps he is hoping the Holy Father might mediate a peace across the Pyrenees and get one or both of the great powers to back his invasion?”

“If the Holy Father can do that”, Jamie said shortly, “he is well on his way to sainthood!”

MDCXLIX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) Unusually given King Charles the Second's liberality upon his Restoration in 1660, neither Powell nor Laugharne seem to have been recompensed for supporting him. Poyer's widow on the other hand received a pension of £300 per year, about £40,000 ($48,000) at 2020 prices._   
>  _2) Innocent the Tenth (pope 1644-1655). A surprisingly well-regarded pope considered his failures in the English Civil War and an unnecessary war against the Duchy of Parma. He also strongly opposed the Peace of Westphalia for some reason._


	4. Decimation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> June-September 1649.   
> Into the summer of a momentous year, where a visitor to Stalwarton has a request which will change the recipient considerably. Ireland continues to be a mess and Cromwell's first success there is marred by his strict interpretation of the rules of warfare, where even the 'lucky nine' may wonder if they were that lucky.

**June 1649**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen had wondered if his in-law might call in to the Hall on his way west as he headed off to sort out Ireland, and so it had proven. The general was he knew less than a decade his senior but the wear and tear of having to be on both the Council of State and to keep the army in check seemed to be wearing on him. 

“I suppose that I could have asked you when we met in Norton”, the general said, “but I wanted to explain a few things and we did not have the time what with rebels to stop. Mr. Buchanan, I may need your help.”

Jamie looked at him curiously.

 _“May_ need?” he asked.

“As you know I am for the mess that is Ireland”, Cromwell said, “which God willing we will sort out sooner rather than later. However the Council is increasingly worried about your native Scotland, and the overtures that they are making to the late king's son. My informants tell me that he is much more malleable than his father or possibly just a better liar, and may succeed in reaching an accord with them. Were it that Scotland wanted him to be king over just them that might be acceptable, but as I am sure we all know it would not end there. Once he has been crowned at Scone then there would be another army to invade England and try to force him on us again. More senseless bloodshed, which I hate!”

He spoke forcibly, and Stephen could feel the anger in his in-law's voice.

“Mr. Buchanan here knows his homeland better than most”, Cromwell went on. “The Council is resolved that if the prince sets foot on British soil, then an army must be immediately dispatched against him before he has time to gather a force against us. God willing that it will not be until we have at least got on top of the Irish mess, but when it happens I would appreciate this man's help.”

“Does General Fairfax concur with this plan?” Jamie asked. 

Their visitor smiled dourly.

“Poor Tom”, he said, “he so hates the politicking side of what his job has become. He is strongly against it. I know that I can trust you both, so I will tell you this; he will resign his commission the moment an army is raised against our former allies. It is for the best; he has served his time and will be happier with his Anne back in Yorkshire. I envy him – I so miss my darling Lizzie – but we know that one of us must lead and that that man must be me.”

Stephen thought wryly that for all his fearsome reputation, it was typical of his relative that he was asking rather than demanding Jamie's help. Although the prospect of his lover going to war again terrified him, he already knew what the answer would be.

“I am in!” Jamie said firmly. “When you are ready just send me a letter, and I will be there.”

MDCXLIX

**June 1649**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“You hate the idea of me going, do you not?”

Stephen nodded. Their visitor had left and they had immediately embraced each other by the fire. Yet the nobleman still felt chilled at the prospect of a parting.

“It is war, possibly in your homeland”, he sighed. “You must go, but keep safe and return to me as soon as you can. I will not be whole while you are away.”

“Do not worry”, Jamie smiled. “I will be careful, and when I return you can send Edward somewhere so we can have a whole week of hedonistic sex!”

Stephen sighed. His lover really was... oh, rather aroused right now as it happened. Ah well, waste not want not.

MDCXLIX

**June 1649**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Cromwell will not be pleased”, Jamie said as he read the latest news-sheet. “Poor Monck has been forced to return to England when almost all the men under him defected to the rebels.”

“That will be another complication”, Stephen said, “as he is up in Ulster where the Scots are defending their own people. If Edinburgh decides to deal with the prince, then how will the army they have over there react?”

“Life is full of problems”, Jamie sighed, looking out of the window at the steadily falling rain. “They are saying that this will be another poor summer, which means yet another bad harvest.”

“Edward and I are already negotiating to buy in more grain”, Stephen said. “Thunor told him to.”

“Some men are so whipped!” Jamie grinned.

Stephen looked hard at his lover. That looked suspiciously like a knowing smirk, damn the fellow!

MDCXLIX

**July 1649**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen let out a heavy sigh of relief.

“Ireland?” Jamie hazarded.

“Nearly lost before Cromwell could reach it”, Stephen said. “The rebels managed to get right up to Dublin but have been routed at a place called Rathmines, despite outnumbering us two to one.”

“Discipline trumps numbers yet again”, Jamie said. “That was shown way back at Powick Bridge, yet it is a lesson that few seem to have learned. Certainly not the Irish, to their discomfiture. I wonder why Cromwell is taking so long to get there.”

“Because he promised his men that none of them would leave England until they had received every last penny of their back-pay”, Stephen said, “along with sworn guarantees of pensions and indemnities. Presumably it was only when they got to the docks and halted that parliament realized he actually meant it, and had to scramble to find the money.”

“So cynical, my liege”, Jamie grinned.

“I think you meant 'so correct, my liege'”, Stephen countered.

MDCXLIX

**August 1649**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Cromwell writes that the famine in Ireland is worse than here”, Stephen said as he and Jamie sat in their study.

The soldier sighed and stared out at the rain, which was now coming down in torrents. There had hardly been a dry day all summer and most of their crops were ruined. Worryingly the convoy¹ in which the grain to them from France had been hit just outside Southampton where it had landed, although the attackers had been beaten off.

“It is good that his army does not live off the land, then”, the soldier said. “The rebels will be hit worse, especially as so few are used to modern warfare.”

“He also says that Ireton's attempt to land in Munster and make a pincer movement has failed, although he has since managed to join him in Dublin”, Stephen said. “That is good; they will have the numbers to take on the enemy now. I wonder where they will aim for first. Kilkenny, the rebel capital, is within striking distance perhaps.”

Jamie shook his head.

“With the Scots up in Ulster he will want to link with the English forces there”, he said. “Drogheda and Dundalk are the two great towns north along the coast; he will target each in turn. Drogheda's walls are said to be very strong but if they think that they will keep Cromwell out, then they are fools!”

MDCXLIX

**September 1649**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen stared in silence at his latest letter.

“What is it?” Jamie asked worriedly.

“You were right”, Stephen said. “It was Drogheda. They refused to surrender so Cromwell stormed the place. It was a massacre!”

Jamie frowned and took the letter in order to read it himself.

“'We knocked their officers on the head, decimated the soldiers and shipped the rest to Barbados'”, he read. “Ironic.”

“What?” Stephen asked.

“That Cromwell is doing exactly what Charles Stuart did during his Personal Rule”, Jamie said. “Following the letter of the law but arguably not the spirit.”

“I do not see”, his lover said. 

Jamie sighed.

“The rules of war are that once a city has been summonsed and refused to surrender, then the lives of the people in it are at the mercy – or not – of the besiegers”, he said. “I am sure some innocent civilians were killed in the storming – that always happens, especially if the fleeing defenders tried to hide in civilian buildings – but Cromwell usually keeps a rein on his men. And he also says that as Aston² broke his parole... oh.”

“What?” Stephen asked.

“He was killed by being beaten to death with his own wooden leg!” Jamie said, his eyebrows raising sharply. “Well!”

“Not a great loss”, Stephen said. “He had a habit of upsetting everyone he came across, and his miraculous recovery after Reading made everyone suspicious. But Cromwell says that he decimated the common soldiers after the battle.”

Jamie shook his head.

“He is using the old Roman definition of that word”, he said, “when a unit that had failed in some way had one in ten men killed as a warning to others. That is where the word comes from, like in decade. Back then they would make the nine 'lucky' soldiers beat their former comrade to death as a warning against their own cowardice. Cromwell's modern interpretation is to have the 'lucky' groups of nine shipped to the Barbadoes.”

“Almost a death-sentence in itself given the climate there”, Stephen said. 

“But effective”, Jamie said as he read on. “Dundalk further up the coast has been abandoned and the rebel army that had been marching to the relief of the east coast has been forced to withdraw.”

Stephen sighed. War was horrible – and there was still the dreadful prospect that he might lose his love to it one day soon.

MDCXLIX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) Like their earlier ones this grain shipment would have had its own guards, but would also have travelled in one of the many convoys for added security. Just as well, as this case proved._   
>  _2) Sir Arthur Aston (b. 1590). Injured by a falling roof-tile during the 1643 Siege of Reading he lost all his senses (rather conveniently, as it excused him from having to try to defend an indefensible town), then made a Lazarine recovery once he had been returned to the Royalists in a prisoner exchange. He lost his leg in an accident soon after while showing off and then falling from a horse. As one of those whose release had involved a pledge not to fight for the king again, his life would have been forfeit under the rules of war._


	5. Snowflakes And Sieges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> September-December 1649.   
> Cromwell actually abandons a siege, and winter comes early when there are a lot of snowflakes in London Town. Stephen gets hot, and is soon very thoroughly bothered by his lover. Luke brings news of another grandson, which for his father means another celebration, which means.... time for some nobleman to start shopping around for an even better padded chair!

**September 1649**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Somewhere in Ireland, Cromwell is rolling his eyes when he reads this.”

Jamie smiled at the exasperation in his lover's voice.

“Reads what?” he asked.

“Parliament has again decided that it cannot tolerate people writing things about them that hurt their precious feelings!” Stephens aid scornfully. “What is wrong with them?”

“I have all day to make a list!” Jamie offered.

“If an argument cannot be made to defend one's position, then one should reconsider one's position”, Stephen said firmly. “This reaction of putting anyone who disagrees with them in gaol is just wrong!”

Jamie just looked at him.

“What?” his lover asked, nonplussed.

“You are even hotter when you get angry!” the soldier grinned, rising slowly to his feet.

Stephen's eyes widened.

MDCXLIX

**October 1649**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“That is the English position in Ulster secured”, Stephen said as he read his letter. “Belfast, Carlingford and Newry all taken, with little loss.”

“That is what happens when you have a Drogheda”, Jamie said. “It may stiffen the sinews of a few diehards but many on the fringes of things, especially those in smaller and less defensible towns, will think that they really do not want a nice Caribbean tan – usually comes with free Caribbean grave! - and give up. The rebels should have struck a deal with the late king while they had the chance.”

“As if he would have honoured it!” Jamie scoffed. “I hear that his son's talks with the Scottish Commissioners are not going well.”

“It is the Montrose thing again”, Stephen said. “I suppose that some will accuse the Marquis of semantics, promising not to fight for the late king then supporting this one, but the Covenanters still hate and fear him. Worse, I fear that the prince is using him to try to pressure them into concessions, which they will not give.”

“Cromwell is likely right, I am afraid”, Stephen said. “Scotland will flare up once they do reach a deal with the prince, and then....”

'Then' indeed.

MDCXLIX

**October 1649**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen shook his head at his latest letter.

“Ireland?” Jamie asked.

“There has been another massacre at Wexford”, Stephen sighed. “Cromwell says that the town surrendered but for some reason they forgot to inform those defending the castle, who killed some of Cromwell's men when they approached. He was not best pleased.”

“You have not been part of a siege, my love”, Jamie said gently. “I have. A soldier is a trained killing machine, and a siege 'stuffs up the works' as they say. You endure weeks if not month of enforced idleness with the constant dangers of attack and sickness. A fighting man is never harder to control than at the end of a siege, when he finally gets to confront those who have endangered him and killed some of his colleagues. Once a siege starts, the town and everyone in it is at the mercy of the attackers.”

“You think that he could not control them?” Stephen asked dubiously.

“His letter said that he cannot use the town for winter quarters, it is so damaged”, Jamie pointed out. “Cromwell may be many things but he is logical; he would not have wanted such a situation with so much of the island still to subdue. Although I suppose that like Drogheda the reports of this will magically mushroom to many times the original size, at least it will make other garrisons reconsider any defiance. This war has been growing even darker since the Irish killed three thousand fleeting Scots¹ after Benburh, some three years back.”

Stephen nodded, but he still felt that it was wrong. And he knew that if – when – his love did go to Scotland, there could well be a similar siege around Edinburgh. The thought chilled him far more than the autumn fog.

MDCXLIX

**October 1649**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“New Ross surrendered almost at once”, Stephen told Jamie a few days later. “The Drogheda-Wexford effect, I suppose. And Cromwell reports that they captured many ships at Wexford as well as preventing the prince from landing there with a large army.”

“Unless he tries to 'do a Montrose' and slip in all but alone, then he cannot use Ireland as a base”, Jamie said. “Once we secure Waterford, that means our Navy can sweep the seas and prevent him from coming.”

“Clearly Prince Rupert thinks that”, Stephen said, “as he has slipped out of Kinsale down the coast with his remaining ships. No doubt that he will cause more trouble for us in the coming months, but not of the sort that can threaten the return of his cousin.”

“I feel sorry for Rupert”, Jamie said. “He is a good commander who could have saved the late king's cause had he been better used or supported. Especially after Naseby when he was sent out of the country at the behest of the Bedchamber Brigade; that was shameful.”

“There is also news from London”, Stephen said. “I am sure that my former colleagues – those small few left, I should say – will be frothing at the mouth, but a jury has acquitted Lilburne of the latest charges against him and the whole city has been celebrating.”

“Did they not arrest him when leaving the dock for smiling too much at his victory?” Jamie asked in mock surprise. “An unforgivable oversight on their part, surely?”

Stephen shook his head at his lover. He really was terrible!

MDCXLIX

**November 1649**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“And there goes the king's very last chance out of Ireland”, Stephen said. “Munster has followed the town of Cork in changing sides, so Cromwell will soon be battering at the doors of Waterford to make a land-link with them. Let us hope that they at least have the sense not to try to double-deal with him, or they will regret it.”

“It is like our own contention this unhappy decade”, Jamie said. “Once it is clear that one side is winning, more and more people jump ship in order to be in for a chance at grabbing some reward. Or to avoid consequences for their earlier opposition.”

There was a knock at the door. Both men looked up, surprised.

“Enter!” Stephen called out.

To the surprise of both men it was his son.

“Welcome”, Stephen smiled. “I hope you bring happy news.”

“Mostly”, the young man said. “Anne gave birth to a son who we are going to call Luke, after his illustrious father and I will disown the pair of you if either of you say anything!”

“Why mostly?” Stephen asked, narrowly suppressing a smile.

“It was another difficult birth”, his son sighed. “We shall not have another child for some years, maybe not at all. But we have five and that is more than enough, especially since young Lissa is taking after her godfather even more of late. She is quite impossible!”

“I am a model of rectitude”, Jamie said in what was obviously mock-offence. Luke looked at him incredulously.

“Then why did I have to utter up a prayer before knocking at the door?” he asked dryly. “I knew that there was a strong chance that I would have to wait while you two reprobates trued to make yourselves decent!”

“Not to worry”, Jamie said easily. “I unburdened all my indecency into your father last night. Four times!”

Stephen blushed fiercely at that, especially as the supremely smug horn-dog was right!

MDCXLIX

**December 1649**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Jamie turned from staring at the softly falling snow, clearly surprised.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

Stephen nodded.

“Cromwell has abandoned the siege of Waterford and gone into winter quarters”, he said. 

“I have never heard of him abandoning a siege before”, Jamie said, “but I suppose that what with his losses and the approaching winter, it makes sense. He rates the welfare of his men higher than any man apart from Fairfax.”

“It will be but scant relief to the Irish”, Stephen prophesied. “Next spring he will be at them again and it will soon be all over.”

“Unless the Scots decide to strike a deal with the king and he has to divert there”, Jamie pointed out.

Stephen hoped and prayed that that would not happen. But he very much feared that it would, taking his lover from him for what would, praise God, be but a short time. Next year looked set to be another turbulent one.

MDCXLIX

Indeed it would be. Far more than either man could then know.

MDCXLIX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) Best not to mention this to certain Celtic historians. Having all the facts overloads their English-hating brain cell, and reduces them to calling you a racist before getting Twitter to ban you for telling the tru.... hate-speech._


	6. King's And Queen's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> January-March 1650.   
> The first of two momentous years for Stephen and Jamie, even given what they have been through thus far. It seems at first just more mopping up as the Irish situation continues to improve and the self-proclaimed King Charles the Second continues to achieve.... not very much.

**January 1650**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“The Commons is annoyed.”

Stephen blinked blearily up at his tormentor. They were both in their forties now so surely their annual celebration of the Twelve Days of Christmas should have been becoming a little more restrained by now? Apparently not, judging from the fact that his instructions to his limbs to co-ordinate enough to get him sat up were being blatantly ignored.

_(Yes, Christmas celebrations were pretty much illegal. But thankfully Edward had taken to spending the festive season over with his future wife every year now so they had the Hall to themselves, which meant that apart from those hours when the servants were around it was pretty much constant sex. Stephen would have objected but somehow he had never quite gotten around to it)._

“What?” the nobleman managed, quite proud at having managed such a long sentence.

His sexy bastard of a lover toyed dangerously close to a certain part of the nobleman's anatomy which, Stephen was sure, would unlike Lazarus not rise again even with divine assistance. And the fellow was clearly enjoying the visible shudder that his prey gave at even those slight attentions.

“They told Cromwell to stop worrying about Ireland and head up to 'talk' with the Scots”, Jamie grinned. “He shot back that he was going to see his men through winter and the place secured, unless they were definitely declaring war on my countrymen.”

Which they will not want to do because they know that that will lead to them losing Fairfax, Stephen thought. He would have ventured a nod but he was not sure that it was within his remaining capabilities.

“At least we are better off that poor Thor and Bren”, Jamie went on. “Lothur and Frigga have both come down with chickenpox so the family has had to scatter; Thunor has taken Edward to their house.”

Stephen thought wryly that at least his cousin would have some rest from Bren's constant attentions for once. Not that he was at all envious.... oh no, not again!

MDCL

Again!

MDCL

**January 1650**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Edward looked on concernedly as Stephen sat down very slowly at the breakfast-table.

“You do not look well, sir”, he observed. “Did you have a rough night?”

Stephen had indeed, although definitely not in the sense that his young charge had (hopefully) meant.

“My liege has his ups and downs”, said someone who was as unhelpful as ever and could really tone down that smirk several levels.

“Maybe Mr. Buchanan could sleep in another room?” Edward suggested. “I slept a lot better when I had my own double bed with all that room to spread out in.”

Stephen shot his lover a warning look. If there was some sarcastic comment about him being spread out last night while a certain horn-dog had yet again tried to find Mecca, he would not be happy!

“I was a soldier”, Jamie said. “It takes a lot to keep me up.”

The look on his face said quite clearly that it took very little. Stephen decided that he really hated him!

MDCL

**January 1650**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Parliament has dispatched Blake to Portugal, to see if he can bring Prince Rupert to book”, Stephen told his lover a few days later.

“I do not think that King John will hand him over”, Jamie said. “The late king was friendly towards his rebellion even if he could offer little support, and Portugal is our oldest ally.”

“But his country has seen its empire decimated by the Dutch”, Stephen said, “while the Spanish who were supposed to treat them as equals under one crown just stood by and did nothing. King John might decide that parliament might be a better bet to recover some of those lands.”

“You think that this parliament might get itself sufficiently organized to achieve such a thing?” Jamie asked doubtfully. “I was not aware that any pigs had flown up the valley lately?”

His lover rolled his eyes at him.

“This is a military state in all but name”, the nobleman said, “and as such it will need to maintain a large army and navy. We have already seen that those men, left to their own devices, starting having Rainsborough-level strange thoughts, so they will have to be kept busy somehow. The king whored the navy out to Spain in his time of power, so why should parliament not do the same?”

“I am glad that I did not take to the sea for a career”, Jamie said firmly. “Getting to and from the Continent in some leaky ship was bad enough, thank you very much!”

MDCL

**February 1650**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

It was snowing again, but so lightly that Stephen doubted if it would settle. At least that would spare him from someone's anatomically correct if anatomically improbable snowman for once!

“Also good news for Cromwell”, Jamie said as he joined him. “He will be back at the Irish, likely tightening the screws on Waterford as he sweeps eastwards. Was there anything in your letter from Vale?”

“Parliament has learned that the Prince of Wales has moved from Jersey to France”, Stephen said. “He will get no help from there; Louis the Fourteenth has years of his minority to go yet and the various factions jostling for power do not need an outside distraction like a dispossessed prince.”

“Even if he is a son of a daughter of France?” Jamie asked.

“The daughter of France who was partly responsible for his present predicament”, Stephen said shortly. “France has always functioned on self-interest first, second and all points up to last, so will do nothing. Nor will Spain, still beset by its Portuguese and Catalan problems.”

“There is his son-in-law, William of Orange”, Jamie said. “He might help.”

“But he is opposed by the merchants of Amsterdam who are all for trade, not war”, Stephen said. “Though he might help by facilitating talks with the Scots. I wonder if this will turn out to be another Charles Stuart who will say or promise anything and everything only to go back on his word once he is able?”

“Time will tell”, Jamie said. “Sex?”

Stephen sighed. The fellow was terrible and, incredibly, getting worse by the day!

MDCL

**March 1650**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen checked his map and nodded.

“Athy and Maryborough¹”, he said approvingly. “Cromwell is swinging round north of Waterford, cutting it off from any relief. He says that there is a light siege against the town at the moment but they are waiting until they have it completely sealed off before turning the screws.”

“Like I 'turned the screw' on you last night?” Jamie grinned.

Stephen rolled his eyes at the saucy fellow.

“He says that he expects to be called back to London quite soon, and reminds you that he would still welcome your military and political acumen when it comes to Scotland. Although I hear that the Scottish Commissioners have not yet reached the prince.”

“I suppose that the French, with all they have on hand at the moment, do not want to get even remotely involved”, Jamie said. “The prince will be invited or more likely be paid to toddle off somewhere else so Paris cannot be blamed for his eventual invasion.”

“More lives lost”, Stephen sighed. “And it will likely be a repeat of the Preston fiasco, ending in failure and a whole lot of people being shipped off to the New World.”

“At least they will not be ending up in the Barbadoes”, Jamie said. “Or not until Prince Rupert has been dealt with and we have the island back under control.”

“The day is far off when some New World lands can pose any more a threat than the Royalists holding Pendennis and the Scillies!” Stephen said firmly.

“But the hour is near when I can pose a threat to your delicious arse!” Jamie grinned, rising to his feet. “Coming?”

Stephen suspected that he very soon would be. And he was right!

MDCL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) Now Port Laoise. Queen's County (Laois or Leix) and adjoining King's County (Offaly) had been founded by Bloody Mary (Henry the Eighth's daughter: ruled 1553-1558) to increase the proportion of English Catholics in Ireland; the capitals of the two were therefore Maryborough and Philipstown (now Daingean), the latter for her Spanish husband. Mary also stopped or at least tried to stop Protestant Englishmen from settling in Ireland, but her changes along with the charters for the two new counties were all revoked by her half-sister and successor Elizabeth._


	7. The Betrayed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March-May 1650.   
> Parliament finds time to try to deal with Prince Rupert and his fleet. The Diggers are dug out and there is a new law making something illegal. A relative of both men is betrayed, which leads to a suspicious coincidence and a determination by Stephen to stand by a doomed man's son and heir.

**March 1650**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Jamie frowned as he read the latest news-sheet.

“We live in a fast-changing world”, he said. “But I still find it strange that in just days London can know what is happening in some islands off the Scottish coast some seven hundred miles away.”

Stephen looked at him inquiringly.

“My half-uncle”, Jamie said. “The Great Montrose – I am sure he hates the name – has landed in the Orkneys with a small force, presumably intending to try to repeat his successes of the first war.”

“The Prince of Wales is trying to apply pressure to the Covenanters so that they will not pile too many demands on him”, Stephen said shrewdly. “A risky move, especially in playing his best if not his only piece.”

“That is one of the worst things about war”, Jamie sighed. “Sometimes you get men like that, good and true, fighting for a cause that you know is doomed and which will likely cost them their lives. The Covenanters hate Montrose and fear him; they will certainly put him to death when they catch him.”

“If they catch him”, Stephen said.

“Given that the news-sheets always exaggerate, he cannot have more than a thousand men”, Jamie sighed. “And Scotland, like England, is a tired country and wants peace be it ever so base; remember that things have been unsettled there for well over a decade now. I doubt that many will rise to support him and Edinburgh is surely raising an army to march against him. The only hope is that when he is defeated, as he will be, that he once again eludes them.”

The nobleman looked at his lover shrewdly.

“You wish that you were up there with him”, he said.

“Part of me does”, Jamie admitted, “but I know in my heart that his cause is lost. And that grieves me greatly.”

MDCL

**April 1650**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“The Digger settlement down in Surrey has been destroyed.”

Jamie did not even look up from his book.

“By a bunch of men whose origins cannot be traced, no doubt”, he said archly, “and who may or may not have come from the houses of the local landowners not best pleased by the government's failure to get involved in their religious quibbles.”

“I suppose that they meant well”, Stephen said, “but we all know what happened when the Pilgrim Fathers tried that sort of common ownership in the New World. They nearly starved to death – after all, who would want to work when others might do it for them?”

Jamie sighed heavily.

“My experience in and out of war is that some people are incapable of learning life's lessons”, he said, “no matter how many times they are slapped in the face with the wet kipper of reality.”

“Mankind ever was thus”, Stephen agreed, “and sadly, will almost certainly remain such.”

MDCL

**April 1650**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Cromwell is very pleased”, Stephen told his lover. “He and the Protestant Royalists have come to an agreement at Cashel in which they will lay down their arms and he can turn his full force on the remaining Confederates. He nearly has Waterford cut off now, and will likely soon be heading back to England.”

“And then to Scotland”, Jamie said. “The prince has met the Scottish Commissioners in the Netherlands and that they are talking, if not anywhere near a deal yet.”

“Because this Charles Stuart is hoping that, like his father, the Marquis of Montrose will work a miracle that will save him”, Stephen said.

“Which he will not”, Jamie said shortly.

MDCL

**May 1650**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen sometimes wondered if he ever underestimated his charge. Young Edward had clearly been aware that bad news had been received at the Hall and that it had deeply affected Jamie, and had taken himself off for an unscheduled trip to his future wife for the day leaving Stephen to have the soldier in his arms. He also noted that his lover, whose body was most times warm, seemed to 'run cold' when as now he was deeply affected by something.

“I wonder if the prince knew”, Jamie said at last. “The timing seems.... odd.”

Stephen nodded. His cousin and his lover's half-brother had been defeated at Carbisdale up in Sutherland, shortly after landing on the Scottish mainland. Although possessed of a slightly larger force than that of his opponents his mostly untrained men had been routed, and the mercenaries under the turncoat Urry had surrendered to a man. Montrose himself had escaped but his enemies were hunting for him everywhere.

The battle had happened nearly a week ago, the twenty-seventh of last month. What had made it odd was that just two days later, the Prince of Wales had suddenly given in to all the demands made on him by the Scottish Commissioners. There was surely no way that the news could have gotten to him all the way from the far end of Scotland in so short a time, yet the timing seemed... curious.

Jamie buried himself deeper into his lover's embrace and sighed unhappily, and Stephen kissed the back of his lover's head before wrapping his arms around him. These were dark times once more.

MDCL

**May 1650**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

It was the following day, and there was more news from the Continent.

“It was true then”, Jamie said. “The Treaty of Breda. Charles Stuart has agreed to impose Presbyterianism on all his kingdoms – England included.”

“He had little choice, given that his gambit with Montrose had failed”, Stephen said. 

“If he thinks that my countrymen will stop there, he is a bigger fool than his father”, Jamie said shortly. “They will reduce him to little more than a cipher before he is allowed to crown himself at Scone, and Cromwell will not allow him to even come close to imposing his will on England. This country remembers the likes of Colchester after the second war, and the Royalists will barely stir themselves if a Scottish king invades their country.”

The nobleman looked at him anxiously. His lover was a serious yet merry fellow, but when things got on top of him as they had over his own half-uncle, he took them badly. Stephen did not like it one little bit.

MDCL

**May 1650**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

The bad news reached them the very next day.

“Betrayed!” Jamie said in disgust. “And by a woman!”

The Marquis had fled across Sutherland to the west coast and Ardvreck Castle, where the owner Neil MacLeod of Assynt¹ had fought alongside him before. However he had been away and it had been his wife Christian who had received him. Her father had been an opponent of his and she had had her guest imprisoned before informing the authorities. The Covenanters would, Stephen knew, make an example of their prisoner who could expect at best to be beheaded rather than being hung, drawn and quartered. 

“He leaves a son”, Stephen said quietly. “When Cromwell has dealt with Scotland and the world is at peace once more, I shall ask that he be given at least something of his father's lands.”

“That would be very good of you, Ste”, Jamie said gently.

The soldier sighed unhappily and eased further back into his lover's embrace.

MDCL

**May 1650**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Even in these darker times there was still the occasional lighter moment, when one could laugh at the sheer folly of those in authority. 

“They have made what illegal?” Jamie asked incredulously.

“Adultery”, Stephen said with a smile. “Not only illegal, they have made it punishable by death!”

The soldier stared at him incredulously.

“You are jesting!” he exclaimed.

Stephen shook his head.

“They honestly think that twelve good men and true will still find a man guilty of such a crime knowing that he will be put to death for it”, he said. “I am all for great punishments for great crimes, but this is taking things way too far. No jury will ever convict².”

“Yet the lawmakers will pat themselves on the back because they think that they have successfully enforced their Puritan ways on society”, Jamie said, “while in truth society will just ignore them and carry on doing what it was doing in the first place. I would ask how they could be so stupid, but then I look at the sort of people they elect to Westminster and I have my answer.”

Stephen was about to agree with him when he spotted it.

“They elected _me!”_ he pointed out.

His bastard of a lover had the brass neck to feign surprise.

“Did they?” he asked, wide-eyed. “Well there you go!”

Stephen scowled at him, though secretly he was pleased to see his lover back to something like his old self again. Especially as they still had the 'trial' of his half-uncle to get through. And the absolutely inevitable aftermath.

MDCL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) Neil MacLeod (b. 1628) always denied that he had been involved in the betrayal, although he seems to have had little problem in keeping the huge reward that he and his wife got for their treachery. He tried to use the general indemnity issued by King Charles the Second on the Restoration to avoid justice and this initially worked, but his vengeful behaviour upon his return to Assynt soon drew the authorities' attentions. The king helped his enemies and neighbours the MacKenzies of Ross-shire to buy up their debts, and in 1672 granted them permission to evict them which they did – by setting fire to and destroying their castle. Neil was the last ever head of his clan._   
>  _2) The act was like all others voided at the Restoration but Stephen would be proven right; juries flatly refused to convict when such a punishment awaited, and in the decade that the act was in force not a single man was found guilty._


	8. Teaghlaich

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May-June 1650.   
> The Great Montrose meets his end like a true nobleman, and down in England his half-nephew is left devastated. But the Marquis has left a small legacy for his relative – one which will come in rather useful not that far into the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is pronounced 'tay-luck'. The plural is 'teaghlach' but the singular form is being used here.

**May 1650**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

With James Buchanan Barnes it was the little things that Stephen noted at times of stress. Such that ever since his half-uncle had been captured, the soldier had not once worn his kilt.

“I hate my countrymen for what they are about to do to my own blood!” Jamie said suddenly one day.

“We could have expected little else”, Stephen said carefully.

“They could easily have paroled him not to fight for the prince ever again”, his lover said forcefully. “He kept to the same promise over the late king; most men do, and the few that do not rarely live to regret it if they are caught. Like that villain Aston.”

“They will kill him to make a point to their soon to be new king”, Stephen said. “A foolish act as well as a bad one; from what I hear of his character this second Charles Stuart is as unlikely to forgive and forget as the first was. Although perhaps he may be wiser when it comes to waiting for his chance to strike.”

“Some day”, Jamie said harshly. “Some day the men who sit in judgement over my half-uncle will face justice. And I will be there to see that they get it!”

Stephen was again reminded that his lover was, at the end of the day, a trained killer. For now however he was just a deeply troubled man, who needed his lover more than ever.

MDCL

**May 1650**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Another thing that troubled Stephen during that spring was that he and Jamie had not had any of the almost animalistic rough sex that, he knew, his lover needed from time to time in order to vent his emotions. Not that he would ever have mentioned the e-word to Jamie; the fellow would likely have fled for the hills! They still made love but Stephen worried that his lover was unhappy, and that made him sad too.

“They have sent reinforcements down to join Blake in Portugal”, he told his lover one day.

The soldier grunted but showed little interest in the news.

“King John is refusing to hand Prince Rupert over for now”, Stephen went on. “Blake is quite a character, what with his successful defence of places like Lyme and Taunton.”

“A man who can handle big guns can usually serve on sea as well as on land”, Jamie said dismissively. “Especially someone as talented as Blake.”

He returned to his book, still frowning. Stephen was getting really worried now.

MDCL

**May 1650**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

The nobleman's concerns only increased when the fateful day came and his lover.... seemed to not want to even talk about it. True, the Marquis would at least be beheaded but that the Covenanters were going to dismember and display the body parts of their greatest foe around the country was disgusting.

“Cromwell's writing is getting worse”, Stephen sighed. “What is this word... tary?

Jamie sighed and held out his hand for the letter. Stephen passed it to him.

“Tory¹”, the soldier corrected. “It is an Irish word for a thief, from an old word for pursued men. I heard it while we were in Scotland, from someone whose relations lived in Ulster.”

“There must be a whole lot of Tories just now, then”, Stephen observed.

Jamie nodded, then stood and left the room, leaving an increasingly fretful nobleman behind him.

MDCL

**June 1650**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

It was just over a week after the execution of Jamie's noble half-brother that there was an unexpected visitor to the Hall. Stephen's brother Aidan.

“No Jamie?” he said as he sat down.

Stephen sighed.

“He is down by the river, brooding”, he said. “He has not been right since.... you know. What brings you here, brother?”

Aidan hesitated.

“Last week we had a visitor at Staward”, he said. “A fellow called Murdoch Graham.”

Stephen was on the alert at once.

“A relative of Jamie's?” he asked.

“Sort of”, Aidan said. “He was a foundling adopted by Montrose, and with him to the end. The Marquis had a last request and the fellow came to Staward to fulfil it, thinking that Jamie was there or at least that we might be able to direct him onwards.”

“What was it?” Stephen asked.

“Something for his half-nephew”, Aidan said, gesturing to the long slender box that he was brought with him. “Of course I have not opened it; Murdoch did offer to continue here himself but he was exhausted at having made it that far, so I said that I would take the opportunity to bring it. I saw him right before I left of course.”

Stephen looked warily at the box. It was a little over a foot long, but only four inches wide and about an inch and a half deep. The wood looked expensive, possibly foreign, and there was a lock in the side with the key in it.

“You were not tempted to open it?” Stephen wondered.

“I know your Winter Soldier!” Aidan smiled. “He would have known, and two hundred miles would not have been far enough to save me. I did speak to Mother however, and in between reducing Angus to the point where he actually fell asleep while I was there, she told me that the Marquis had written to her about Jamie a short time back and that she had written back and told him the truth. You know Mother; she never holds back.”

That, Stephen thought, was horribly true.

"Especially over poor Angus...."

Stephen glared at his brother. That was way too much information!

MDCL

Stephen was grateful that his brother, who was surely as curious as he himself was, had left him and Jamie alone while his lover unlocked the mystery box. The soldier was clearly on edge as he slowly lifted the lid and stared inside. It seemed to be an age before he reached down and lifted up a small dagger. It was Stephen thought surprisingly plain, with only a single blue stone in the hilt. His lover held it up and balanced it on a finger.

“Perfect!” he said softly. 

“There is writing on the blade”, Stephen said. “What does it say?”

Jamie turned the dagger round.

“'Teaghlaich'”, he read, a smile appearing on his face for the first time in weeks. “It means a family member, or a fellow clansman.”

He reverently placed the weapon back in the case then took something else out. It was a letter, which he read slowly before passing it to Stephen who did likewise:

_'My fellow Graham,_

_I may call you that for it is what you are, a Graham in blood. Do not grieve for me; my only regret in life is not having met the man who, from what others have said about him, was a fine soldier and a great man._

_I visited Orkney the year prior to my ill-starred 'invasion', and while in Kirkwall I ran into a woman who had the Sight. She told me that unless the Fates changed then by the end of this year you and I would both be dead. Of course I knew of your existence – families have few secrets – but I wrote to your friend's mother who confirmed our relationship. I cannot save myself nor would I wish to, but I hope that this may one day save you._

_The seer told me that she also knew you were coming to our homeland soon. She had a message for you. 'In Cuthbert's home you soon will stand, so keep a weapon close to hand'. I do not know what it means, but regardless I wish you to have this in memory of me. As our clan motto says, 'Forget Not'. And always be a Graham._

_James Graham'_

Jamie sniffed mournfully.

“Cuthbert's place”, Stephen said thoughtfully. “That might be Durham, where the saint is buried. Cromwell asked to meet you at Newcastle when you go; that is on the road there.”

His lover drew a deep breath and looked hard at him. Stephen knew that look and did not know whether to be pleased or terrified. He raced for their bedroom.

He barely made it.

MDCL

**June 1650**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

It was two weeks later. Or possibly even two years; Stephen was not sure. All he knew was that his insides would never be the same again, after Jamie had had him every which way but loose, fucking him time and again as he finally, finally worked out his recent angst.

It would probably be on the nobleman's grave: his last words were 'have at it!' And boy, had Jamie had at it!

“Four days until I have to be off”, Jamie said, mind-reading as per usual. “Are you up to another round?”

Stephen glared at him. Well, Stephen thought about glaring at him. The muscle co-ordination was a bit beyond him just now.

“Of toast”, said some bastard in the vicinity.

Stephen sighed and allowed his tormentor to very slowly ease him up, the nobleman's muscles protesting all the way. Eventually he was upright and able to eat. Or to at least to let Jamie feed him; he had not known that toast could be that heavy!

“There has been a major battle in Ireland at a place called Scarriffholis, near Letterkenny in Ulster”, Jamie said. “Once again it was discipline that told; we were outnumbered two to one yet not only won but have scattered their forces. That was the last major army the Confederates had in the field; a few Tory rebels but that is it. It is just mopping up now.”

“Cromwell will be glad to hear that”, Stephen said, glad to find that at least his voice still worked. 

His lover seemed to hesitate for some reason. Stephen was at once wary; his lover was almost never uncertain apart from after his recent loss. What was this about?

“Go on”, he said warily.

“Many years back your mother gave me a silver ring of hers”, he said. “She suggested that I could have it cleft in two – it is large enough – and give one ring to my true love. I think she knew even then, for she had had it enlarged before giving it to me. I wondered.... would you wear one while I am away, so I can wear the other and always think of you?”

Stephen sniffed. That was so romantic!

“And if you say anything even remotely mushy”, Jamie said quickly, “always remember – I could decide to have sex with you again right now!”

The nobleman's eyes widened on terror. That would surely kill him – and why was his head nodding like that? Oh no!

MDCL

Oh yes!

MDCL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) The word evolved into meaning anyone who supported the Stuarts and after 1688 the Jacobite claimants to the British throne. The Tory Party was one of the two dominant English political parties until it split over the Corn Laws of the early nineteenth century, the more liberal members decamping to join the Whigs and form the Liberal Party while those more conservative members who stayed behind formed.... the Conservative Party. Confusingly the modern Conservative & Unionist Party is often called the Tories, usually only by those who cannot handle words of more than two syllables._


	9. Invasions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> June-August 1650.   
> The lovers are parted as Jamie heads off to assist Cromwell in his dealings with the Scots - and he is not their only problem. There are more daft new laws and the last flickerings of the Irish rebellion. The late king's eldest son is in Scotland while there is trouble over the army that will oppose Cromwell and, maybe, one day restore the Stuarts to the English throne. The result is a lot of confusion and a lot of unemployed men – but still, has Old Ironsides for once bitten off more than he can chew?

**June 1650**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

There was not one but two lots of news that reached them the day before Jamie's departure. The first was totally unsurprising.

“Fairfax has resigned as Cromwell said he would”, Stephen said with a sigh. “Old Ironsides did lead a committee of Council members to try to dissuade him but in vain; he wished to have nothing to do with this Scottish venture and is retiring to Yorkshire.”

“A deserved rest for the fellow”, Jamie said, fingering his ring and smiling. “Anything else?”

“Some rather curious news from Scotland”, Stephen said. “The Kirk has decided that all Engagers are to be prohibited from serving in the army that they are raising.”

Jamie's eyebrows shot up.

“That is some of their best men let alone several thousand highly committed troops”, he said incredulously. “They are prepared to leave them at home because they do not have the right political beliefs? Are they mad?”

“Certainly unwise”, Stephen said. “Not only that, they are reportedly drawing up a further list of demands before they will graciously allow the Prince of Wales to be crowned as their King Charles the Second.”

“I am uneasy about that”, Jamie admitted. “It would be good if we could allow Scotland to have him as king and for England to pursue its own course, but we all know that that will never happen. He is a Stuart, and they just keep on keeping on until they get want they want or are beaten into the ground.”

“Or murdered, blown up by a cannon, assassinated, killed in battle, dead through some disease acquired on campaign, not forgetting a couple of beheadings¹”, Stephen observed. “The family does not seem blessed with good fortune.”

“Yet they have lasted nearly three centuries on the dangerous Scottish throne”, Jamie pointed out, “while the more famous Bruces did not even make one.”

“Well, hopefully this latest blunder North of the Border should make Cromwell's job easier”, Stephen said.

And my love safer, he added silently.

MDCL

**June 1650**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen was grateful for the news-sheet that Captain Quicksilver brought up just after Jamie's departure, as he was able to retreat to his study and definitely not cry. In fact what he read made him laugh out loud, as did Edward when he told him about it later. Luckily the young man had been invited (ordered) over to see his future wife that day and had ridden off just before Jamie had left.

“Sorry about that”, Edward said apologetically. “Thunor dragged me all the way over there to ask me what I thought about her new dress.”

Stephen smiled at the young man's indignation.

“What was it like?” he asked.

“Like something a farm-hand's daughter would keep at the bottom of her drawer as a spare lining”, Edward said, shuddering at the memory. “Not that I dared say as much! I do hope that Mr. Buchanan got away all right, sir; I would have liked to have made my farewells but you know what Thunor is like. I am sure that she has timed the distance from my home to hers so she can know if I tarry.”

“That is not impossible, knowing her”, Stephen smiled.

“Is there anything of interest in the news-sheet?” Edward asked.

“Parliament is going to firmly enforce the law on swearing”, Stephen said. “I know that it has been around for some time but now anyone venturing an unwary 'pon my life!' in public had better be prepared to pay for it.”

“Why is it news if it is just enforcement of an old law?” Edward asked.

“Because the rogues in Westminster have come up with a new way of getting even more money out of it”, Stephen said. “They have always fined people more for multiple oaths or worse swearing² – which it seems to me is a matter of judgement – but they are now going to fine rich people more.”

“I had better warn Thunor, then”, the young man said seriously. “Especially after what she called Odin earlier!”

MDCL

**July 1650**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

_'Ste_

_Have joined up with Cromwell and the army at Newcastle; I was wary when I rode through Durham (I did not stop) but nothing happened. We have about sixteen thousand men which may or may not be enough, although if my countrymen keep slicing off 'improper' parts of their own army then that will definitely help. Weather is good and your in-law is as ever on top of the logistics side of things; the fleet is off Tynemouth and ready to accompany us as we march north. Wish us luck!_

_Bucky'_

Stephen wiped his eyes. He really had to get the maids to dust this room better.

MDCL

**July 1650**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

_'Ste_

_Things are not so good. My countrymen raised a bigger force than expected and after bombarding Leith we had to withdraw to Musselburgh a short way along the coast. But I hear that they are still arguing among themselves, which is hopeful._

_One amusing thing; you remember how your Aunt Agnes of the terrible stories was visiting a friend over in Wales? She apparently heard news of Montrose's defeat and execution and was Not Best Pleased, so detoured via Edinburgh to have a Talk with Argyll. It took five men to drag her away, but luckily he has children already._

_You will be relieved to know that I am advising rather than fighting, which I would appreciate except your in-law is a hard taskmaster. He wants to know everything about his enemy and I often end the day feeling as if I have been totally drained. I am sure you know the feeling.'_

Stephen blushed at the innuendo. Even three hundred miles away his lover was terrible. And he so missed him!

_'I am fearful that we do indeed not have enough men to finish the job up here, parliament as ever having skimped to save their own wallets. I hope this reaches you soon; at least the chain of communication is secure as Vale has a friend on the Council of State who receive regular dispatches by ship, and Diana can get the letters on to you by her courier service. In between exhausting that poor husband of hers which reminds me; I must send her more of my 'ideas'._

_Bucky'_

Stephen shook his head at his lover. Honestly!

MDCL

**August 1650**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

_'Ste_

_Better news, and I am sure you will find this as hard to believe as I do. The Scots have just dismissed a further three thousand men along with a whole load of officers from their army because – wait for this – they cheered too much!'_

Stephen's eyes widened. What on earth...?

_'It seems the Covenanters realized, if a bit late in the day with an enemy army having just bombarded their capital city, that many in their army were more keen on putting the king back onto the throne than enforcing Presbyterianism. How very sinful of them! So they have all been sent home, which helps us a bit. Cromwell however still thinks our position vulnerable and has decided to withdraw to Dunbar, which is about halfway between Edinburgh and Berwick. We can keep in contact with the fleet there and get fresh water, although some ships are now shuttling to and from Holy Island to get extra from there._

_Missing you._

_Bucky'_

Stephen blushed again. Seriously, just two words and he was like a lovestruck youth.

MDCL

**August 1650**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

_'Ste_

_It seems that the latest purge of my countrymen was more devastating than first reported, so Cromwell has taken us back to Musselburgh again. I am a bit worried; we are as you can guess losing men ourselves to the usual summer diseases and camp fever, and I do not as some of our commanders do underestimate Leslie who is commanding my countrymen. At least there was some good news from Ireland; Waterford has finally fallen after a two month siege, which might release some more troops. Though I doubt any will reach us in time._

_I am particularly grateful for Cromwell's grasp of logistics as Leslie has, predictably, scorched the Border lands to prevent us from living off of them. It has been a poor year thus far up here and the people are in a pitiful condition, one this war is not helping. I feel for them._

_Still missing you._

_Bucky'_

MDCL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) James One through Five, the beheadings being Mary and Charles the First. The three others members of the dynasty (Robert the Second, Robert the Third, and James the Sixth and First), all died of old age._   
>  _2) The standard shilling fine equates to around £7 ($8.50) in 2020 terms. The original law had been in 1623; for once England was behind Scotland, who had been doing this since the 1550s. Despite only being the enforcement of law passed before the execution of Charles the First, this law too was voided upon the Restoration in 1660._


	10. Triumph And Disaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> September 1650.   
> The Scottish situation suddenly becomes a crisis when, despite an English victory, Stephen receives alarming news from London and has to rush to meet his love. That Orcadian seer's warning was right and Jamie is in danger – can he reach him in time?

**September 1650**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Looking back, Stephen would always remember the moment he read his lover's letter as he sat in the study window, enjoying the late summer sun. Everything had seemed so right with the world just then, with not a hint of the drama that would come so soon after:

_'Ste,_

_All is well. We have won a great victory against the Scots at Dunbar, despite being outnumbered by two to one and seemingly cut off from any escape. The enemy is broken, we have several thousands of them as prisoners and Edinburgh will soon be ours. Even better, Cromwell says that once I have advised him on siege tactics I can come home. I am so looking forward to 'coming' home!'_

Stephen blushed at the _double entendre_ there. His lover was so bad!

_'They had us boxed in by the shore, so on my advice Cromwell sent about five hundred of our sick and wounded to a ship. It worked; Leslie immediately closed and prepared for battle, giving up an excellent defensive position. But we were still outnumbered as I said, things looked hopeless._

_Cromwell held a mounted Council of War on the second, the night before the battle, and most of his officers were for trying to fight our way out. But John Lambert (who still worries me as he is very ambitious) suggested instead attacking a weak point in the enemy lines as they would never expect such a thing. It worked; when facing an army half your size you do not expect them to take the offensive and they were caught totally unprepared. Some brilliant cavalry manoeuvres finished them off, and we had won!_

_I am a bit surprised that Cromwell is having the prisoners we captured marched all the way to Durham, but I suppose he is fearful they might try to rejoin Leslie. I may overtake them on my journey home when I am done here. Home to where I belong, with the one I love._

_Bucky.'_

Yes, Stephen had felt wonderful having read that letter. And he would have a week or so of residual happiness before without any warning, his whole world threatened to fall in.

MDCL

**September 1650**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

These were still dangerous times, and it was not surprising that cities who had walls locked their gates every night, and that the Hall was thoroughly locked down every evening. So Stephen was more than surprised when he was awoken by the sound of banging at the front door of the building. Pulling himself together he hurried down the stairs, pausing at the convenient window overlooking the porch to see who it was. Fortunately the visitor had stepped back and even in the light of the New Moon he could make the man out.

_Vale? His cousin? What was he doing here at this ungodly hour?_

He hurried down the stairs and admitted his relative, who looked exhausted. What on earth could have happened to cause him to risk riding overnight?

“Diana sent you a letter by courier”, the lawyer said, yawning as he was led into the study, “but given the urgency of the situation we felt that we had to let you know as soon as possible. So I came as well.”

“What situation?” Stephen asked worriedly.

“Is young Edward around?” the lawyer asked.

Stephen snorted disdainfully.

“Boy could sleep through a thunderstorm!” he said forcibly. “He actually did last month, Lord alone knows how.”

His cousin looked at him anxiously.

“It is very bad”, he said. “Do you remember how his uncle was killed five years back?”

“Yes”, Stephen said. “I suppose it was a pity that there was no body to bury as he was one of those burned to death in the barn, but....”

He trailed off. Suddenly the horro of what his relative was saying had hit home.

 _He is alive?”_ he asked incredulously.

“Worse”, his visitor said heavily. “Alive - and back in England.”

Stephen stared at him in horror.

“You think that he might try to kill Eddie?” he asked.

“I fear not.”

The nobleman stared at his visitor.

“You _fear_ not?” he asked.

“Diana thinks that it is not Edward he is going after”, he said. “It is Jamie! He came back not to London, which would have been easier from where we know he left the Continent, but took a ship to Hull. He is likely there by now.”

“But why would be go after Bucky?” Stephen asked. “That makes no sense!”

Vale sighed heavily.

“Be real, cousin”, he said. “He knows as do we all that Jamie is everything to you. And the news-sheets in London have said that he is up in Scotland advising Cromwell, otherwise he would have come here. He aims to destroy you by destroying Jamie.”

“He must be stopped!” Stephen said forcibly. “I will ride to Durham and warn Bucky!”

“I am not so tired that I cannot still work”, Vale said. “You go and sort out clothes and food, and I will get your horse ready. I have ridden mine into the ground to get here, poor thing, and I promise that once I have had some sleep I will keep an eye on this place while you are gone.”

“Thank you, friend!” Stephen said fervently.

MDCL

In reality Stephen knew that there was every likelihood that he would miss his lover even if he rode straight up the most obvious route to the North, via Northampton, Nottingham and Tadcaster hard by York. But he remembered the late Marquis's warning and felt that Durham was the place he had to to aim for.

Although with his luck there would be some other church of St. Cuthbert that his love might end up in!

Vale had said that while he might make Durham in about twenty-four hours, he too would need sleep as well especially given that he had only had some two hours before being awakened. He suggested looking for somewhere to rest a night in the West Riding, which would also give his horse a chance to recover. Stephen fervently wished that there was some way to get to his lover faster but had to concede the wisdom of his relative's advice; he would be no good to Jamie if he had an accident _en route._

MDCL

**September 1650**  
 **Tadcaster, Yorkshire (West Riding), ENGLAND**

Normally Stephen liked travelling and would have enjoyed a ride through a late summer England. But as he hurried along the country lanes whose condition varied from poor to worse, he felt increasingly fearful that he might reach his lover too late. It had not helped when, just before reaching this place, he had passed somewhere he remembered talking with Jamie about one time. Towton, the scene of the bloodiest ever battle to take place on English soil with some twenty-eight thousand men killed.

He prayed hard that that was not an omen.

MDCL

**September 1650**  
 **Boroughbridge, Yorkshire (West Riding), ENGLAND**

Although he only had about seventy miles to go Stephen's progress was halted when Captain lost a shoe just as dark was falling, and he had to stop in Boroughbridge to have a new one put on. Thankfully from here on there was really only one good direct road, so he had more chance of intercepting his friend. Although in his heart of hearts he somehow knew that he would only have to track him down when he got to Durham. He found an inn and hoped desperately that his tired body could get some sleep for the next day.

MDCL


	11. Death In The Cathedral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> September 1650.   
> Showdown at Durham. Stephen blunders into the ancient cathedral to find not his lover but a man he had thought dead – a man armed with a flintlock! There is a flash, a fallen body – and it is all over.

**September 1650**   
**Durham, County Durham, ENGLAND**

After what seemed an interminable journey from his stopover Stephen was finally riding into the great city of St. Cuthbert, which he had visited on a few occasions before during his time at Staward. It was as impressive as he remembered, the mighty cathedral rising like a fortress above the town set in a bend in the River Wear. Hoping that the seer who had warned the Marquis had been talking literally, he headed for the building.

There was a small knot of soldiers outside, and Stephen paused briefly to ask them for news. Their commanding officer, an unpleasant-looking blond fellow, looked disdainfully at his dusty appearance but answered.

“Lord Cromwell sent us down here with the Scottish vermin”, he said. “No idea what has happened since, but he must be moving on Edinburgh by now.”

Stephen was about to thank him and enter the building when he spoke again.”

“Some nob who was advising my lord caught us up this morning”, he said. “Gave us a right going over just because we had lost a few men on the way down; what the hell did he expect with a forced march?”

Stephen felt his hopes rising – surely that had to be his Jamie? - and thanked the fellow (if insincerely) before hurrying inside the huge building. There was no immediate sigh of his lover....

The door behind him was slammed shut, and he span round to see a horribly familiar figure standing there. The definitely not late Mr. Anthony Stark! Fuck!

“You made it then”, the soldier grinned. “Thought you'd come when I went after the man who fucks you every night.”

“We make love”, Stephen corrected, eyeing the gun that the fellow was holding – a flintlock, damnation, so likely to work. “There is a difference. Not that I would expect _you_ to understand that.”

“Like old Henry the Second's knights with Tom Beckett, I have no scruples about killing on holy ground”, the soldier sneered, slowly advancing on Stephen who started to back away down the long aisle. “You denied me my inheritance, my liege, so I am going to deny you your 'husband'!”

“Edward is the rightful heir to Stalwarton”, Stephen pointed out. “Not you.”

“The good sometimes die young”, the soldier smiled darkly. “Which he soon will, once I have you out of the way. I could have gone after you both down in Oxfordshire, but I knew you would suffer more if you thought I was after your sex partner. Now he will suffer for his part in stopping me, and soon Stalwarton will be.... be.....”

Stephen stared. The fellow was suddenly looking shocked, and slowly he began to crumple to the floor. Only as he did so did Stephen see a second man standing behind him in the darkness of the cathedral, carefully pulling an ornate dagger out of the victim and looking at it as if he was not sure what it was.

_”Bucky?_

Stephen's first thought was relief that his lover had saved him, but that was swiftly followed by two others. First, even though the building was mercifully empty just now, there was bound to be someone along soon and there might just be a few questions to answer. Second, the look on his lover's face – he had never seen anything like it in his life. It was as if the man was somehow there but not there.

“We have to get out of here!” the nobleman said urgently. “Come on!”

Jamie nodded dully, wiped the blooded dagger on a nearby hassock (ugh!) then followed him to a side-door.

MDCL

**September 1650**  
 **Staward, Northumberland, ENGLAND**

Stephen knew that it was less than forty miles to his brother's house, and as they needed to put some distance between themselves and a certain dead relative that seemed their best bet. He did not dare hire a second horse in case they were tracked, but luckily Captain was strong enough to bear them both provided they did not expect too much from him. They made Staward by nightfall, although all the way there Jamie spoke not a word. Worse, he was ice-cold to his lover's touch and that chilled Stephen to the bone.

Aidan welcomed them to the house and sorted them out with food and drink. Stephen was only briefly able to explain what had happened; he feared leaving his lover alone especially in his present state.

It was bedtime before Jamie finally spoke.

“I am sorry.”

Stephen stared at him incredulously.

“What for?” he asked. “Improving Mankind by removing that stain from it? Saving my life? For what?”

“For dragging you into my excuse for a life”, Jamie sighed. “I.... so many men.... I finally broke and had to have some quiet time alone. And then that bastard shows up threatening the man I love more than life itself....”

He broke off into a sob, and Stephen immediately pulled him closer. That seemed to calm him although the nobleman could still feel him shuddering. And he was still far too cold.

“Tell me”, Stephen said gently. “What happened?”

He wondered for a moment if Jamie would just refuse, but the soldier heaved a heavy sigh and began.

“I wrote last to you just after Dunbar”, he said. “After that battle Cromwell ordered the prisoners we took – about five thousand of them – to be shackled together and marched to Durham. Over a hundred miles away.”

“You told me about them”, Stephen said. “I suppose that he could hardly risk them rejoining Leslie.”

Jamie shuddered again.

“As I said, I was kept on for a few more days to advise on how best to besiege Edinburgh”, he went on. “It was glorious weather for early September and I passed on your request; Cromwell said that when Montrose's son approached him he would make sure that the Council of State 'looked favourably' on his request for his father's title and some of his lands back, once he has a grip on Scotland. So I set off back to you feeling wonderful.”

He took another deep breath.

“It was near a village called Eyemouth, about twenty miles into my journey, that I found out”, he said. “There was a fellow there who told me; he had an isolated place just off the main road, away from the village. A few of the prisoners had fallen because they could not keep up, and they had just been left to die. Whether of their wounds, the weather or the march who knows, but as they do the army had paid someone – this fellow I spoke to – to bury the bodies.”

“It was the same all the way down, Ste. Berwick was the worst but almost every place I passed through, many men had died. By the time I got to Durham I was seething, and the conditions the survivors were being held in.... I retched! I think that at least half of those that had started out had died on the way, and those that were left were in a pitiful condition¹. I had to go into the cathedral to sort myself out – you know I am far from the most religious of fellows – then that idiot appeared and threatened your life. I had to kill him!”

“Of course you did”, Stephen said firmly.

“And I dragged you into danger”, Jamie sighed. “I am a fool!”

“Maybe”, Stephen smiled. “But you are my fool, whose ring I will wear until the day I die. I would not change you for the whole wide world!”

And with that something seemed to break inside Jamie, and he openly sobbed into his lover's arms.

MDCL

**September 1650**  
 **Staward, Northumberland, ENGLAND**

Stephen was relieved that his lover's letting out his emotion seemed to have calmed him somewhat, and he was a lot more himself over the following week. They had decided to remain at Staward for a time as Jamie did not feel up to travelling just yet.

Aidan had travelled into Durham to see what had ensued from the killing of Anthony Stark, and had returned with the news that the authorities had dismissed it as just another matter resulting from the near military occupation of the place. It had not proven possible to identify the dead man so it had been assumed that he was some soldier who had had a grievance against one of his fellow men that had ended in violence. Which was not that far from the truth.

Stephen was not surprised when Jamie did not ask for sex any time after the killing, although he also noted that his lover did not like his being away from him for any length of time. His only really bad moment came when his mother came over with Angus, who looked much older than he remembered and promptly fell asleep during their encounter. Which would have been bad enough but his mother's smug look when he did so..... this was his own mother, damnation! 

Finally he and Jamie were ready to see off back for Stalwarton. The nobleman could but hope that their troubles were now behind them and they could have a quiet few years together.

MDCL

It was a nice hope.

MDCL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) In a 2013 excavation at Durham University a number of corpses were exhumed and it was estimated that of the five thousand prisoners who had left Dunbar, only three thousand had reached Durham and a further fifteen hundred of those had died because of the dreadful conditions in which they had been kept. The remains were reburied in a local cemetery in 2017 and a plaque erected in the cathedral._


	12. I Am Listening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> September 1650.   
> The lovers return home and immediately experience an utterly mortifying moment, albeit one with ultimately rather pleasant consequences. Stephen is just relieved that his lover is back to his sex-maniacal self – well, most of Stephen is relieved; certain body parts may have a different opinion! – but before the month is out Jamie makes a shocking announcement that will have long-term consequences for the couple.

**September 1650**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

About the only thing that Stephen was not looking forward to when they finally got back home was having to explain to his charge that the uncle he had previously thought dead had actually been alive, except that Jamie had killed him. And on their riding up to the Hall it seemed at first that he might have to face that hurdle immediately as the young man was waiting to meet them. 

That was one problem. The other was that Jamie decided that once the two of them were safely on the ground, he should take his lover in his arms and kiss him very thoroughly in front of the fellow.

Ah.

“Eddie”, Stephen began nervously, glaring at some bastard who was smirking far too much even for a soldier. “I can explain.”

The young man quirked an eyebrow at him expectantly.

“This should be good”, he said cheerfully. “I am listening.”

Stephen had nothing. He just stared at his charge – until the fellow stared to smile.

“About damn time!” he said exasperatedly. “Leave me your horses; I can take them to the stables and get them seen to, then I am heading off to Thunor's.”

A horrible realization slowly dawned on the nobleman.

“You did know!” he exclaimed. Jamie, irritatingly, seemed unsurprised.

“I have known for years!” the young man said firmly. “Why do you think I was always taking myself off at just the right time for you both. Or teasing you the morning after with all those remarks about how 'hard' things were?”

Stephen just stared at him.

“I shall be away _all day_ at Thunor's”, the young man said. “Mr. Buchanan, do try to leave him in one piece, and finish by the time I return.”

Jamie chuckled. It was the first time since Durham that Stephen had heard him do that.

“We are not at it every minute of the day, Eddie”, he said.

“It just seems like it!” Edward said firmly. “And I know that look of yours. It is the sort that means I had better get both of these horses to the stables fast if I value my ears. Good luck, my lord – _I rather think that you will need it!”_

He took the reins of both horses and led them away. Stephen turned to Jamie, and was overjoyed to see he did indeed look like he was ready for....

“Upstairs now!” Jamie snarled.

“Sir, yes sir!” Stephen grinned, mock-saluting before hurrying into the Hall.

MDCL

It was several aeons later, and what was left of Stephen Roger Amerike lay broken in his and his lover's bed. And.... Jamie was crying?

The nobleman pulled himself round, ignoring the very definite protests of his abused muscles, and moved over to his tormentor (more protesting) before wrapping himself around him.

“What is it, Bucky?” he whispered, glad to find that his voice still worked.

“I went too far!” his lover shuddered, and Stephen noted how tightly he was curled into a ball. “I just needed to.... I had to.... I....”

“Bucky”, Stephen said carefully, “I let you. Every time before when you let rip, you always stopped when you went too far. Remember?”

His lover sniffed but nodded.

“I did”, he said. “But I could not have this time, even if you had asked.”

And there had been times when the coupling had crossed the line between pleasure and pain, Stephen knew. But he somehow knew that he had had to get through this for his lover, who had been left a broken man after what he had seen – and done – in the North.

“Did I ask you to stop?” he said instead.

It was, he thought later, very much a politician's answer in that it was evasive rather than untrue. But his lover shook his head.

“Your happiness is everything to me, Bucky”, Stephen said softly. “I would give everything I have to keep you happy, you know that. Letting you make love to me, whether it is you at your savage best or you as the most romantic lover in the whole wide world... I am so lucky to have them both in one beautiful package.”

His lover nodded, and Stephen was relieved when the soldier eased back into him. They were together, and that was all that mattered.

MDCL

**September 1650**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“I set aside your most comfortable cushion, sir.”

Stephen glared at a smirking Edward. Well, he tried to glare at him. It probably came across as a mild pout.

“Make sure you put it on his padded chair”, said a cousin whom Stephen no longer liked at all. He glared at Vale too, then winced as the effort of moving all those face muscles _hurt!_

“I hope that Bucky writes to Diana with a whole lot of new ideas!” he scowled. “Oh my head!”

“I would have thought the other end was more problematical, sir”, Edward said, far too brightly for a late September morning.

Stephen decided to ignore them and instead traversed the four miles to his chair. He eased himself down very carefully, sighing happily once he was safely down.

“I see that parliament's power has finally caused King John to come to his senses”, Vale said, far too loudly. “Prince Rupert has been forced to flee Lisbon; Lord alone knows where he has gone.”

“Perhaps over to the New World to see if he can keep the Royalist cause alive there”, said Edward who also seemed to be speaking far too loudly for Stephen's liking.

“I hate you all!" he muttered. “Just so as you know.”

They did not seem to worry overly much about that, the bastards!

MDCL

**September 1650**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

By the end of the month Stephen had just about recovered and things were mostly back to normal, except that after his initial fieriness Jamie had turned to making slow and seductive love to him much more often. The nobleman supposed that he would just have to put up with that.

It was not until an event the news of which reached them on the very last day of the month that Stephen realized they had a new problem.

“The king has been caught trying to plot with that fool Argyll against the Covenanters”, Stephen said as he read the news-sheet. “He is not even in Scotland yet, but he is proving himself his father's son in the deception stakes.”

Jamie just nodded. He seemed oddly distracted, Stephen thought.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“You mean apart from your in-law murdering several thousand of my countrymen and my having killed a man in a cathedral?” the soldier asked dryly.

Stephen just looked at him.

“All right, not murder but still killing”, Jamie conceded. 

“In both cases”, Stephen said. “Cromwell's actions were stupid rather than malicious; you yourself said that he had insufficient troops so he had to shackle those prisoners together as he could spare so few men to guard them. And you did not murder 'The Iron Man'. You killed him to stop him from killing me, which is self-defence.”

“You should have been a lawyer, not a politician”, Jamie said heavily. “I have been thinking, and I have reached a decision. I do not think that you are going to like it.”

“You are my life and my soul”, Stephen said. “Of course I will support you.”

“I can no longer back Cromwell and this excuse for a parliament.”

Oh.

“I am not some extremist who would throw someone over for sharing a different opinion to me”, Stephen said firmly, “and yes, this past decade has shown our country to have far too many such people. But I can understand your feelings. You are not going to.... do something?”

Jamie smiled sadly.

“A good soldier knows when not to fight because a cause is lost”, he said. “The Prince of Wales may have his day, but for now his enemies are too strong. Yet if he calls for my help, I shall answer.”

Stephen nodded and went back to his news-sheet. He only hoped that his lover's determination and dedication would not endanger either of them in the future.

MDCL

It would – but not in a way that either of them could have foreseen.

MDCL


	13. Degrees Of Tolerance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October to December 1650.   
> The remainder of a shocking year is devoted mostly to foreign affairs, in places as far afield as Scotland, Portugal, the Netherlands and the New World. Unfortunately the Prince of Wales proves once more than he is his father's son, with the same consequences as before (i.e. disastrous), while the Crackdown on Christmas continues with pretty much the same degree of success as before (i.e. little or none).

**October 1650**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

There was more news from London.

“Now this is the sort of thing that could run the severe risk of making parliamentary rule popular”, Stephen told Jamie as he read the news-sheet. “They have passed a Toleration Act which removes compulsory attendance at church, and have also annulled the recusancy laws on dissenters.”

“Dangerously liberal”, Jamie smiled. He seemed calmer now that he had changed sides, Stephen thought, and worrying though that development was it made his lover happy so he fully supported it. “Where is Edward? Was he not supposed to go round the estate with you today?”

Stephen sighed.

“Thunor came over early”, he said, “and told him that she was taking him shopping in King's Linton. Mother gave me a ring to pass on to her and she wished for it to be professionally cleaned.”

“I can see why that would make him depressed”, Jamie said, “but why do you look so down over it?”

“Her first words when she saw me were, 'you had better look a lot better come the wedding so make sure your Mr. Buchanan knows that - _or else!'”_

Jamie laughed.

MDCL

**October 1650**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Those rumours of Prince Rupert taking his ships to the new World proved false”, Stephen told Jamie a couple of weeks later. “He is in the Mediterranean.”

“I suppose he thinks that we can hardly spare a fleet of ships to hang around the Pillars waiting for him to break out into the Atlantic”, Jamie said. “I am surprised he did not try to go to the Royalist colonies across the seas, though.”

“Talking of them, parliament has voted to suspend trade with Bermuda, the Barbadoes, Antigua and Virginia”, Stephen said. “They have dispatched a fleet against the Barbadoes – the obvious target considering how rich they are – and are employing privateers to disrupt the trade of the others.”

“If we can get them back then the others will fall into line”, Jamie said. “I did once think it might be a fine thing to be one of the early settlers over there – father of a nation, perhaps – but now I am content with what I have here.”

Stephen smiled. It was good to see his lover happy again, and looking like....

Oh, like that. Things really were getting back to normal!

MDCL

**November 1650**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“That will damage the Prince of Wales's chances”, Stephen said.

“What?” Jamie asked.

“William of Orange has died”, Stephen said. “William the Second he was. His wife, the Prince of Wales's sister, gave birth to a son a week after and he is to be named for his father.”

“Ruler of a country before he is even born”, Jamie said. “Even quicker than our own Mary Queen of Scots; at least she reached six days old. Let us hope that it is not an omen¹.”

“It may be for the Prince of Wales”, Stephen said. “He was hoping for support from his brother-in-law as part of his Scottish invasion, and I can guarantee that the merchants of Amsterdam will not do that. They have long resented the House of Orange wanting to be kings rather than just stadtholders.”

“The king seems to be taking an age to get to Scotland”, Jamie sighed. “I wish that I rated his chances higher, but Cromwell will soon have Edinburgh and its castle, and then where can he go?”

Stephen noted but did not comment on the fact that his lover now called the Prince of Wales 'the king'. Interesting. And a tad worrying.

MDCL

**November 1650**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen stared pointedly at his cousin, who blushed.

“Well?” the nobleman said archly.

“Look, that new priest was having a go at Bren”, Thor said defensively. “He said that as a servant he should not be stood alongside me but should go to the back of the church 'with the rest of the plebs'.”

Stephen continued to stare at him.

“And?” he pressed.

“And what?” his cousin asked.

“The Reverend Kinsburgh has handed in his notice”, Stephen said. “After only being here a few months he apparently feels that Oxfordshire is not for him.”

“Said feeling is mutual!” Thor muttered.

Stephen continued to stare at his cousin.

“You have been taking lessons from my resident horn-dog!”, Thor grumbled. “Fine. I may have suggested that I picked Bren up from somewhere overseas – somewhere that they practice cannibalism. And that the reason he was looking at the priest was that he was wondering just how much he would need to be cut up before being put in his pot.”

“You are terrible, the pair of you”, Stephen sighed. “Still, this fellow sounds like an idiot – I almost wish that we had got round to Hampton before he 'decided to quit' - so presumably he is not much of a loss.”

His cousin smiled wanly.

“Bren certainly celebrated his departure”, he grinned. “That was the one good thing out of the whole sorry mess!”

Stephen sighed. He was surrounded by sex-maniacs!

MDCL

**December 1650**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

It would have been most untoward if the guardian of Stalwarton Hall had sent the men at the local garrison in King's Linton a gift of food to mark the festive season, because that sort of thing was banned these days. Even if as some sassy soldier had snarked, it was so banned that the parliament in London kept re-banning it every year and asking everyone in authority why the banned things kept happening despite being banned every damn year!

No, Stephen would never have sent those soldiers a Christmas box of food because first, that might have been seen as a bribe to leave them alone for the time of the year that they were definitely not celebrating, and second, it would have been illegal. However, it was incumbent on the Hall to provide food to maintain the garrison, and clearly it made a lot more sense to send one large lot of food down than to make several separate trips with only small amounts. And that the deliveries happened every year on December the twenty-fourth? Well, it had to be some time.

One tradition of the definitely not a festive season that Stephen was more than happy to see return was his and Jamie's marking of the Twelve Days of.... something. Well, most of Stephen was happy with this tradition. His lover had been even more intense this year, such that by the twenty-ninth the nobleman had not made it down the stairs since the Lord's Day.

“Only three more days left in this year”, Jamie said as he fed his lover breakfast. “I shall not be sorry to see the back of it.”

Stephen could not but agree. What with death, slaughter and his lover's terrible state after Durham, this was one year that he was more than glad to put safely behind him. Sixteen hundred and fifty-one could only be a lot quieter, surely?

MDCL

Ah.

MDCL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) Hardly. William the Third would become one of the country's greatest rules, repeatedly frustrating the much greater power of the Sun-King Louis the Fourteenth's France. He would marry his first cousin Mary (the future Charles the Second's niece), and in 1688 he would successful invade England to become our William the Third as well._


	14. And On The Thirteenth Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> January-April 1651.   
> The definitely not a Christmas season rounds off with a bang in a start to what will be another momentous year in the lives of Captain Amerike and his Winter Soldier. The new King Charles the Second's cause looks increasingly hopeless as his plans are foreseen by his able opponents at every turn, but then Cromwell falls ill – is there a chance for the Royalists after all?

**January 1651**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

The Twelve Days Of That Thing Which They Had Definitely Not Been Celebrating were finally done, as pretty much was Stephen Roger Amerike. His insatiable lover had finally put the dark days of the previous year behind him, and it had been Stephen's arse that he had used to do it! The nobleman might not be making it out of their bed any time soon, but he felt _glorious!_

Jamie must have left the door slightly open because Stephen could hear his voice in the corridor outside.

“Hullo, Eddie.”

The nobleman was surprised. The young man usually kept to his own half of the house, if (as he had rather unfairly put it when asked) 'for my own sanity'. 

“Good morning, Mr. Buchanan”, came Edward's voice. “I hoped to catch you downstairs with the news.”

“What news?” Jamie asked.

“The Prince of Wales reached Scotland over the New Year and has been crowned at Scone.”

Stephen was surprised at that, but then he supposed that the heavy snows had meant such news would have taken longer than usual to get to them. He was musing on the fact when Edward's next words sent a chill through his heart.

“He is now King Charles the Second”, the young man said, “so I am sure that you will wish to celebrate the development with my Lord Amerike.”

Stephen shuddered at the very idea!

“Oh I will”, he heard Jamie say darkly. “Very thoroughly!”

“Maybe give me time to get outside for that long walk I am about to undertake”, came Edward's voice, and somehow Stephen knew that the (other) bastard was smirking. “Good luck!”

“He will need it!” Stephen heard Jamie say. “Good morning, my liege!”

The thirteenth day of That Thing Which They Had Definitely Not Been Celebrating was about to be just as memorable for Stephen Roger Amerike!

MDCLI

**January 1651**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Jamie knew just how much his lover was fearful that his new-found support for the Crown might have him haring up to his homeland in order to pledge his sword to the new king. However as he had said, he considered that the fellow's chances of success were minuscule what with the Covenanters still divided after losing Edinburgh, and a further event later that month only served to reinforce that opinion.

“Argyll has quit the king's service”, the soldier told Stephen as they lay together one morning, the nobleman definitely not purring with satisfaction after he had for once taken the lead the evening before.

Yes, he was still as wrecked as during 'normal service', but he still felt proud of himself. 

“What was his fake excuse?” the nobleman asked dryly.

Jamie chuckled at that.

“He _claims_ that moves to admit the Engagers into a new army are 'against his conscience'”, he smiled. “That he has one would be news to most who know him; it just shows that he rates the chances of success to be nil and is distancing himself from a hopeless cause.”

“I would mention rats and sinking ships”, Stephen said shortly, “as I am sure you are thinking such.”

“One does not get to be the top clan without some questionable dealings”, Jamie said. “But yes, Argyll is not someone I would ever trust. The trouble is, he is important. Many will see his quitting as a sign that they too should not support the king. Though his excuse about the Engagers is daft, for obvious reasons.”

“Because the reduced support will force the Kirk to agree to their inclusion in order to make up the numbers”, Stephen reasoned. “And a divided army is a weak one. I wonder – will they manage to actually form an army before Cromwell deals with them or no?”

MDCLI

**February 1651**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

The answer to that question was, perhaps surprisingly, in the affirmative due to an unexpected development early the following month.

“Him, ill?” Jamie asked, surprised. “I thought that Old Ironsides was too stubborn a fellow to ever catch anything.”

“One can never be sure at this distance”, Stephen said, “but yes, the reports reaching London say that my in-law is on his sick-bed and that progress against the Scots has ground to a halt. Although this dreadful snow does not help.”

“Good for making snowmen, though!” Jamie grinned.

The nobleman sighed at him. Edward had been mortified by the anatomically-correct snowman outside the Hall that 'someone' had made the night before, and had glared at said 'someone' all through dinner. Especially as Thunor had been visiting and he had had to walk her back home past the thing!

“Doctors are not up to much even these days”, Stephen sighed. “One can but hope that he pulls through, if only because of the uncertainty that would surely follow if he did not.”

“Much better to have a system where you know who is coming next”, Jamie said airily. “You know, like where the eldest son always inherits everything. We could call it monarchy, say.”

Stephen shook his head at his lover. Snarky bastard!

MDCLI

**February 1651**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Mixed news for the king from the Continent”, Jamie said as he read the latest news-sheet. “King Philip¹ has asked the Royalist ambassadors to leave Madrid since he is now recognizing parliament as the official government of England.”

“That will not please the king”, Stephen said. 

“You too refer to him as king now”, Jamie noted.

“He is rightful King of Scots and crowned as such”, Stephen pointed out. “The two kingdoms were only in a personal union, and our northern brethren have the right to choose anyone they wish as king. If he had accepted the parallel right of we English to make our own choices then all might be well but you know as well as I do that he intends to use the army they are trying to raise to march on London and reclaim his father's throne, and in doing so he will likely end up losing Scotland.”

“There is better news for him from France, who are nervous at parliament's negotiating with the Dutch”, Jamie said. “They are allowing Prince Rupert to refit his squadron down in Toulon, safe from the predations of our Navy.”

“It would be good if the two Protestant republics could reach an accord”, Stephen said, “much as it would annoy the French. I suppose that that explains King Philip's move as well, what with his still being at war with Paris.”

“And fighting his own Portuguese and Catalan subjects”, Jamie sighed. “The German wars may be over but the Continent remains as much of a mess as ever, it seems.”

MDCLI

**March 1651**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“That is a prize”, Stephen said as he read his letter from London. “Cromwell's forces have managed to capture John Birkenhead.”

“Who he?” Jamie said with a yawn.

“The sharp fellow who wrote _Mercurius Aulicus_ during the war”, Stephen said. “He was so clever in the way that he used sarcasm, like when he said that Sir Jacob Astley lately slain was inquiring whether he had been killed by cannon or musket fire!”

Jamie smiled at that.

“So they captured someone who caused them embarrassment”, he said. “Hardly a great loss to the cause.”

“It may be a lot more, for the king”, Stephen said gravely. “Birkenhead had papers that they got to before he could destroy them – and they had full details of all the Royalist uprisings planned to coincide with the king's invasion from Scotland!”

Jamie's eyes widened. That was bad.

MDCLI

**April 1651**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Remember that rule you told me about?” Stephen asked Jamie one day.

“The one that said sex in the middle of the day should be compulsory?” the soldier asked dryly.

Stephen sighed. Not that the prospect was unattractive, but he was still recovering from last night thank you very much. Plus they both had birthdays coming up, which always led to the horn-dog across from him becoming even hornier!

Praise the Lord!

“I meant the one about only taking on one enemy at a time”, the nobleman said, rolling his eyes at his lover. “Grenville has been using the Scilly Isles to prey on Dutch merchantmen and it seems that Amsterdam has had enough of it. They have sent Tromp² himself to put him to rights.”

“That will put Grenville in a cleft stick, then”, Jamie said. “It is all very well the Dutch turning up and demanding their ships back, but I would wager that he has already had most them towed to mainland ports and sold to raise cash for our master.”

Stephen noted the 'our' there.

“The trouble is, Diana has written to tell us that Blake is taking part of the Navy there to remove the base and get trade flowing again”, he said. “This runs the risk of ending with as many sides as they had in Ireland!”

“There are only two sides there now”, Jamie said. “Those who agree with the Army – and those who do not value that thing called life!”

MDCLI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) King Philip the Fourth (reigned 1621-1665). A patron of the arts but a weak monarch, he failed to institute necessary military and political reforms thus further weakening the already declining Spanish Empire, lost control of Portugal and left a situation which ultimately led to the War of the Spanish Succession (1701-1714)._   
>  _2) Maarten Harpertszoom Tromp (b. 1598), the United Provinces' greatest admiral. His adventurous life could never have been made into a Hollywood movie because for one thing no-one would have believed it, and for another he was patriotic._


	15. The Three Hundred And Thirty-Five Years' War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May-August 1651.   
> There are some Scilly negotiations which, when they break down, will start one of the longest wars in history. Cromwell recovers and begins to deal with the Scots, but rather strangely he leaves the path to England open. King Charles the Second takes the opportunity (or the bait) and invades, but the hoped-for Royalist risings fail to materialize and he finds himself trapped at Worcester, not far from Stalwarton. The final battle beckons.....

**May 1651**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Thankfully Blake and Tromp have come to some agreement over the Scillies”, Stephen told his lover, “and Blake has started retaking the outer islands¹.” 

“That is good”, Jamie said, “although you did say that the talks between parliament and the Dutch had not gone well.”

“That was mainly due to Royalists in the Provinces who were doing their best to spike the negotiations”, Stephen said. “The trouble is, while the Dutch were fighting their war for independence from Spain and we were looking for ways to help them indirectly, it became standard practice that all trade across the Atlantic was in Dutch ships even that between England and her colonies. Now that parliament is in control they may think to change that.”

“More war”, Jamie sighed. “More killing. And for what – money!”

He looked so sad that Stephen opened his arms to his lover who all but ran into them. The two just stood there, holding each other on a cold spring day.

MDCLI

**May 1651**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Prince Rupert has disappeared.”

Jamie looked expectantly at his lover.

“You mean that he has made it out into the Atlantic”, he said. “Either to some base like Madeira or the Azores, or across to the rebel colonies.”

“I suppose that he might call in on the Scillies if he does not know that both Blake and Tromp are there”, Stephen said. “That would make things even more confusing!”

“He cannot have more than five or six ships by this time”, Jamie said, shaking his head. “And he would surely know that news of his sailing that close to England would surely be in London within days. No, he would not take such a risk.”

“The late king was a fool to dismiss him when he did”, Stephen said, “but then he was a fool in most things.”

“For all the good that he is doing, Rupert would be better to join the new king in Scotland”, Jamie said. “A bunch of new ships might persuade more men to sign up, which given the Covenanters' shilly-shallying right now is needed. They say that Cromwell is over the worst of his illness and it cannot be long before he is up and back at them again.”

“Let us hope that the likes of Stirling and Perth do not make the mistakes of Wexford and Drogheda, then”, Stephen said.

MDCLI

**June 1651**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“News from both ends of these islands at once”, Stephen said as he read Vale's latest letter from London. “Although I wish my cousin could refrain from comments about 'hoping that I survived both our birthdays'!”

“I was feeling generous this year”, Jamie said with a smile. “Besides, we were both forty-three so it was hardly a great milestone. I will be marking forty-five rather more, and as for fifty....”

Stephen shuddered at the look he was getting.

“You are terrible!” he grumbled.

“I think of myself as rather good”, his lover smiled. “But if you need a demonstration right now....”

“The other news”, Stephen cut in, “is from Scotland. Rather better for the king this time; the Kirk have decided not to rule on whether Engagers can be readmitted into the army so the Scottish parliament have taken that for a yes. The king will have a fair-sized and well-led army as a result.”

“Unless Cromwell gets to them first!” Jamie pointed out. “He is hardly going to stand aside and let them promenade all the way into England, is he?

Stephen would remember that phrase, although when it later proved to be not quite one hundred per cent accurate he would not constantly remind his lover of it as such reminders always caused Jamie to take out his frustrations in a certain way.

Well, he would not remind his lover of it _that_ often!

MDCLI

**June 1651**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Odd”, Stephen said as he read his latest letter. “Cromwell has backed away from Stirling.”

“Why is that odd?” Jamie asked. “He does not have that many men to spare, and the city is all but impregnable.”

“I know”, Stephen said, “but Leslie's army was lurking behind it, still being formed. I wonder why my in-law did not try to work his way around the place in order to wipe them out.”

“Perhaps he is still not one hundred per cent recovered”, Jamie suggested. “Knowing the fellow I am sure that he would have been back in the saddle likely before his time, and he may not have felt up to it.”

“Or perhaps the king's army is actually a lot stronger than we are being told”, Stephen wondered. “Either way, it will only grow with time. This is very strange.”

MDCLI

**July 1651**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

A possible answer to the out of character behaviour of Stephen's recovering in-law came in the middle of the following month.

“Lambert has seized Inverkeithing”, Stephen told Jamie.

“Ah”, the soldier said, “so that is his game. A strike across the Forth into the Fife and threaten a pincer movement on Stirling. He did well to force a landing; that coast is well-defended.”

“It cannot have been that well-defended”, Stephen said. “A short battle but the Scots lost some two thousand men and a further fourteen hundred were captured. English losses were said to be only a couple of hundred.”

“Believe all battlefield estimates²?” Jamie grinned.

“There is also more news from Ireland”, Stephen said. “The Confederates managed to scrape together a force to attempt the relief of Limerick but it has been wiped out.”

“Ireton is making heavy weather of the mopping up over there”, Jamie said. “But then he always was a cautious fellow, and better that than making the place flare up again.”

“I wonder what Leslie will do now”, Stephen mused. “Men who would otherwise have gone to Stirling to sign up might fear that they could be trapped there. The king will have to do something soon, one way or another.”

“He will advance into England”, Jamie said confidently.

“I thought that you said that was unlikely?” Stephen challenged.

“That was before Cromwell struck into the Fife”, Jamie said. “Look at it on a map. He is leaving the road to England open, and for the king it may soon be the only option if Perth falls and blocks the roads behind him. Your in-law is gambling that the king will receive little support, especially as the Royalist uprisings he was hoping for have been sniffed out and snuffed out. He will be here soon enough.”

He would be. And his arrival would have consequences for both men.

MDCLI

**August 1651**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen had had a bad moment when he told his lover that the king had indeed crossed into England, fearing that the soldier might wish to go and join his king. But then he realized that the look on his lover's face presaged something rather different and infinitely more pleasurable, and... he did not remember much of the rest of that day.

“The king is claiming that his men have scored a victory at Warrington Bridge, on the Cheshire-Lancashire border”, Stephen said, a shade dubiously.

Jamie snorted in disbelief.

“Lambert was under orders to harass and delay them, not to give battle”, he said dismissively. “And he damaged the bridge so as to do just that. If I were the king I would be more worried as to why his army is not swelling with English Royalists as he likely expected.”

“The peoples of the north-west remember what the last invading army did three years back”, Stephen said, “and they probably rate his chances of success as small.”

“They may have just got even smaller”, Stephen said. “Cromwell has taken Perth, left Lambert and Monck to tackle Stirling and Dundee, and is coming south in pursuit. I wonder.... where will the king go?”

Jamie smiled.

“You are thinking his old capital, Oxford”, he said. “This is 1651, not 1642. He will head for somewhere along the Welsh March where doubtless he will expect a sudden rush of support from Wales and the West Country. He will once again be disappointed.”

“And like his father, surprised”, Stephen sighed. “I am beginning to fear that Cromwell was right, and that this is an apple that has not fallen far from its tree.”

MDCLI

**August 1651**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

It was nearly the end of the month before Jamie was proven right.

“Worcester”, Stephen told him. “And the only force of any size to try to ride to his support, under that old idiot the Earl of Derby, has been routed at Wigan long before it got anywhere near to joining him. The king will have to fight a defensive battle and pray for a miracle.”

“He will not get a miracle”, Jamie said shortly. “But he will get Cromwell. Where is he, does it say?”

“His forces are assembling at Evesham”, Stephen said, “some forty miles from here and about fifteen from Worcester if I remember. The battle will be very soon, and then.... what?”

MDCLI

What indeed?

MDCLI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) Thus starting what would much later be termed the Three Hundred And Thirty-Five Years War. The Scillies, pretty much all that was left of Royalist England, remained 'at war' with the Netherlands all the way until 1986 when a final 'peace' was declared!_   
>  _2) Actually these figures were correct. For once._


	16. The Great Escape (I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> September 1651.   
> The last battle of the oddly-named Third English Civil War is fought, and Charles the Second wins..... second place. The only very minor downside is that he has to escape England with a price on his head, which is where a certain Oxfordshire soldier comes in. Except that there is a bit of a problem....

**September 1651**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Life, Stephen had long thought, was never meant to be easy. But could the Good Lord not refrain from making it _that_ difficult?

News of the king's defeat at Worcester had reached them the day after it had happened, one of the messengers taking the tidings to London having been asked to call in at the Hall on his way. As he had known he would Jamie had immediately wanted to help the king who was somewhere in middle England with a price on his head, but there was a problem. 

In fact there were over a hundred problems. Namely the spots all over his lover's body.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Buchanan sir”, Brennus said, hanging his head and looking unusually miserable for such a cheery fellow. “My Thor he came down with it last night and since you were over yesterday, I thought I had better come and let you know. Luckily I've had it, as I know has my Lord Amerike.”

Jamie scratched furiously at his many spots.

“This is dreadful!” he moaned. “How can I help the king when I am like this?”

“I would of course stand in for you”, Stephen said loyally, “but we have no idea as to where he is.”

“Diana would know”, Brennus said helpfully. “She knows everything.”

“Especially when someone keeps giving her 'hints' in dealing with poor Vale”, Stephen said, looking pointedly at his lover. 

“I don't mind riding to London to ask if she does”, Brennus offered, grinning as he looked at Jamie. “It would seem you are going to get some rest from your man's attentions, my lord.”

“Only if Diana can find the king”, Jamie said firmly. “Otherwise I will be making full use of him as a distraction during my suffering!”

Stephen gulped at that. Not that the prospect was that unpleasant...

MDCLI

**September 1651**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Brennus returned three days later, looking tired but happy. 

“Sorry for the delay, sirs”, he said. “I stopped over to talk with Mr. Thor about things.”

“I bet you did more than talk!” Jamie scoffed.

“Well, I had to do something to tide him over”, the huge man grinned. “Once he could talk, he said it was all right for me to go with you, my lord.”

Stephen was surprised at first, but quickly saw how right the fellow was. A lone man riding alone around a dangerous country like England would definitely draw attention; everyone knew the dangers of the roads. Two men would be safer and less noticeable, and many potential attackers would look at Brennus's huge bulk then likely think twice before trying anything. And if they did not, all those muscles could help drag the bodies away afterwards.

“The king went to some people called the Giffards at a place called Boscobel¹, near Wolverhampton”, Brennus said. “They tried to get him into Wales but it didn't work, so they obtained a pass for one of them to visit Abbot's Leigh near Bristol. The king will be disguised as their servant.”

“And thence a ship to France, hopefully”, Jamie said, still scratching away. “Ow!”

“A pity that he is so tall”, Stephen said. “Nearly a clear foot above most men²; that sort of thing is what the soldiers will be looking out for as it cannot be hidden.”

“Mrs. Diana, she suggested that since you're almost as tall then you and I might weave our way around the party and draw some of the pursuers away”, Brennus said. “She said a few other things as well but I'm saving all them for Mr. Thor when I get home!”

Stephen shook his head at the saucy fellow.

“You are a shade taller than me”, he pointed out.

“But everyone can see I'm a kern”, Brennus said disarmingly, “while you're a nob. Diana says that we can meet up with the king's party at a place called Long Marston, south of Stratford and not far from here.”

“What about papers to travel”, Stephen asked. “I suppose that that is where I come in?”

“You are known as the one nobleman that Cromwell trusts”, Jamie pointed out, “let alone being family. Besides, all his soldiers all know what Old Ironsides is like when they go and upset the wrong people. It will be drawing lots again to see which of them ends up in the pillory!”

“Or the Barbadoes!” Stephen agreed.

MDCLI

**September 1651**  
 **Long Marston, Warwickshire, ENGLAND**

“What do you think of the king, sir?” Brennus asked. 

Stephen hesitated. They were indeed spending the night at a house in Long Marston not far from Stratford. It was a small place but at least his bed was serviceable. It just lacked a certain something. A certain muscular, sassy, sex-mad Winter Soldier. 

“He seems.... insubstantial”, the nobleman said eventually. Seeing his friend's puzzled face he continued, “I do not meant physically, of course, but in terms of character. I think that he will bend far more easily than his late father ever did, but also that he will always remain true to his inner convictions. That is no bad thing in any man, especially a king. At least he seems better than what I have heard of his brother.”

“Have you met the Duke of York?” Brennus asked.

“I have not”, Stephen said, “but as his elder brother is as yet unmarried and Jamie supports his cause now, I made it my business to find out what I could about him. The duke has courage – his escape from custody shows that – but he seems far more rigid in his beliefs than the king. I am minded of Henry Stuart, James I's son, who was a promising future king until he died before he could marry and produce any heirs.”

The taller man looked at him shrewdly. For all that he could play a passable village idiot he was as Stephen knew extremely clever, and read the sort of books that even his lover Thor would not think to open. Not that he would have gotten the chance as he was normally being fucked silly with The Brennster!

“Mr. Jamie's cause”, Brennus said softly. “Not yours.”

“I just want what is best for England”, Stephen sighed. “For now that is parliament and the Army, but in the future – who knows? Besides, Jamie is my first, my last and my everything, and I am doing this for him.”

The behemoth grinned and looked set to say something, then very firmly shut his mouth.

“You were going to cone out with something horrible like 'that is true love', were you not?” Stephen challenged.

“Didn't have to sir”, Brennus grinned. “You said it for me.”

As Stephen had thought, extremely clever.

“We shall strike west for Hereford tomorrow”, he said, “and see if we can cause some sightings of a well-dressed tall stranger trying to slip across the lower Severn into Wales. That is one route that they will expect him to try, so we must not disappoint. Then we shall work down the river and cross the river at Chepstow, hopefully reaching Bristol to find him gone.”

“We hope”, Brennus echoed.

MDCLI

**September 1651**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Thankfully Jamie was not alone in his three week ordeal as young Edward had had the chickenpox (for real this time) the previous year so was immune. Even better (as far as the young man was concerned) his future wife had not, so he was banned from seeing her 'just in case'. Jamie was surprised that he was so down at that, and insisted on sending letters over to her every few days.

Two days after his lover's departure there was a letter in familiar handwriting at his place at the breakfast-table. Jamie stared at it in surprise.

“My Lord Amerike left me instructions to pass on one letter every other day to you, until he comes back”, Edward smiled. “He wrote them all before he left; he knew that he would not be able to write to you given the circumstances, but he wanted you to know..... things. And if you so much as utter one word as to the contents I shall start looking for another damn guardian!”

Jamie managed to hold in his emotions as he took and read the letter. It was only a few lines but it was so his man, pledging his undying love for his magnificent soldier before ending with a suggestion as to what they might try when he got back. Jamie blushed fiercely; he was sure that such a thing was physically impossible.

Well, fairly sure. Better to make that one hundred per cent, though!

“You are terrible!” Edward said with a smile.

“Aye”, Jamie agreed. “Truly, I am a fool in love!”

MDCLI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) At both Boscobel and Moseley the king hid in an oak tree to evade his pursuers; hence the common pub name Royal Oak. Boscobel is fifty miles north of Worcester, and Moseley thirty miles north-east. The king had tried to escape across the River Severn to get through Wales and hence a ship to France, but at Madeley he had been chased away by an irate mill-owner. The irony was that the fellow who was chasing him was a Royalist who had been hiding other refugees from Worcester, and had feared that the newcomer might betray him!  
>  _2) Charles the Second was about six foot two against the average height for the times of around five foot five, so nine inches taller. The irony was that Charles' father at five foot one (we think) was one of our shortest kings ever.__


	17. The Great Escape (II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> September 1651.   
> Plans to spirit the king away at Bristol fail due to parliamentary vigilance, so he has to be moved further south. Stephen and Brennus tour the area causing several reported sightings of the fugitive in totally the wrong place and the nobleman teeters dangerously on the edge of another Moment. Meanwhile a lot of people celebrate for no reason.

**September 1651**   
**Abbot's Leigh, Somersetshire, ENGLAND**

The news was not good. Stephen and Brennus had been stopped twice on their journey, but they had arrived to find the king still there. Apparently no ships were leaving for France in the next month and worse, guards were very thoroughly searching the few that were allowed to depart for other destinations. The men with the king had decided that they would try for the south coast, and to that end he would be taken to the house of a trusted friend in the village of Trent, in south Somersetshire¹.

“We will work our way down the Bristol Channel past Bridgwater as far as Watchet”, Stephen said, poring over a map. “He goes south-east, so we go south-west. Watchet has boats across to Wales and Ireland as do other ports along that coast, so they will all be well guarded and we are sure to cause some sightings. Then we should head south to Exeter and give them some sightings into Devonshire; they will think that he is headed for Royalist Cornwall. His friends will try for one of the Lyme Bay ports, and see if someone can be persuaded to take him to France.”

“They say a reward of a thousand pounds² is being offered for his capture”, Brennus said. “And he's been seen in Norfolk, Surrey, Lancashire and Yorkshire.”

“All in the wrong direction”, Stephen said with some satisfaction. “Let us sleep. We have another long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

Another Jamie-less day, he thought sadly.

MDCLI

**September 1651**  
 **Watchet, Somersetshire, ENGLAND**

Brennus barrelled noisily into the inn where Stephen was finishing his drink.

“Soldiers!” the behemoth growled.

Stephen abandoned his beer and raced for the back exit, swiftly followed by his friend. They heard a shout from behind them, but presumably it was not the soldiers entering the place as there was no pursuit. Dodging along a dirty back-alley they emerged not far from the docks.

“You said offering a large sum to get to Wales in a dirty goods boat would do the trick”, Brennus chuckled in between his gasps. “That rat of a captain must've run straight to his soldier friends.”

“We need to get out of town immediately”, Stephen said firmly. “There is a road south through the hills and the soldiers cannot follow immediately; they will have to sort out a guard for the harbour.”

They moved carefully out of the small town to the isolated barn where they had secreted their horses, then rode slowly southwards keeping a careful eye out behind them.

“Jamie should be getting better by now”, Stephen says abstractedly. 

“You really love Mr. Jamie”, Brennus said. “And I know he loves you, much as I love my Mr. Thor.”

Stephen nodded.

“Good and hard, several times each night!” Brennus added with a smirk.

The nobleman sighed. And he could not gainsay the rogue, damnation!

MDCLI

**September 1651**  
 **Cullompton, Devonshire, ENGLAND**

They had stopped at a small wayside inn and were enjoying the late summer sunshine outside.

“Ale is good”, Brennus said.

“Do not react, but we are being watched”, Stephen said quietly.

“Where?”

“The woman gardening in the cottage across the road”, Stephen said. “She has been weeding that particular patch for some ten minutes now. The fellow leaving the house came down and spoke with her a moment back.”

The man in question walked quickly down the road to one of the more substantial houses in the main road and knocked at the door. He turned to look across the road at them before the door opened, then slipped inside.

“Go?” Brennus asked.

“Yes!”

MDCLI

**September 1651**  
 **Shillingford St. George, Devonshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen and Brennus did not stop at Exeter, which they knew would in itself draw attention to them. A little way south-west of the city they reined in and sat astride their horses in the little copse, both smiling as a party of soldiers thundered past them down the road towards Plymouth. 

“I caught at least two people racing each other to the garrison when I called you 'Your Maj....' before we left the city”, Brennus grins. “They'll be scouring every place the wrong side of Exeter now!”

The nobleman smiled and led the way back towards the city. If the Army thought that the king was making for the traditionally Royalist Cornwall, then not only would they be sending troops to the area from elsewhere, they would also be stepping up shipping patrols around the peninsula rather than further east. Which was all well and good.

“What was in the box, sir?” Brennus asked. “If you don't mind me asking?”

Stephen pulled up and took out the small box that he had opened that morning, handing it across to his friend. Brennus opened it and took out a badly-embroidered... something about nine inches square, with a wobbly letter 'S' on it. He opened his mouth to comment on how hideous it was, but stopped.

“Yes”, Stephen smiled. “Jamie once said that a test of good soldier is if he can set himself to do tasks from nothing, so I challenged him to try to embroider something. He came up with this horror; I would wager that this took him many, many hours. And you are right, it is hideous – but it was made with love.”

“He loves you enough to stick at something he's hopeless at”, Brennus said, understanding at last.

“Yes”, Stephen smiles. “That is why you are looking at the luckiest man in all England!”

MDCLI

**September 1651**  
 **Trent, Somersetshire, ENGLAND**

It had not been a good week, for pretty much anyone. Though the scene before them now was... amusing.

Last Monday the king had been taken to Charmouth a few miles east of Lyme, where a local fisherman had promised to take him over to France. Except that the idiot had gone and told his wife who, panicking over their being found out, had locked him in his room and threatened to scream rape if he tried to break out!

Disaster had very nearly followed farce. They had then moved some eight miles east to Bridport where someone³ must have recognized the king, because they had barely made the last minute decision to head back to Trent when a party of soldiers had charged by on the main road east to Dorchester, within clear sight of them. Fortunately they had been just the other side of a small copse and had not been spotted.

The dramas in Dorsetshire were far from over, though. That night the king had been hidden in a pub in the small village of Broadwindsor only for a group of soldiers to descend unexpectedly on the place, and demand rooms. Fortunately one of the women with the soldiers had gone into labour and, horrified at the expense of their having to look after the child, the men had been told to leave. Which, thankfully, they had done.

Now to cap it all the villagers of Trent seemed to have gone mad, celebrating for no apparent reason.

“What is happening?” the king asked.

Brennus was not the only man around him to blush, and Stephen could understand why.

“They received a report of your capture, sir”, the nobleman said carefully. “It seems that they are quite happy at this 'news'.”

Fortunately the king took the news well enough and they all went back inside, leaving the villagers to their unjustified celebrations.

MDCLI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) The village was transferred to Dorsetshire in 1896._   
>  _2) Even at the most conservative estimate, over £145,000 ($175,000) at 2020 prices, worth immeasurably more to the mostly poor people for whom such a sum was unimaginable wealth._   
>  _3) Bridport, a small town which despite the name is a mile inland. A horse in the royal party cast a shoe here, and the observant blacksmith noted that the horse had been re-shod in different counties, including Worcestershire. He told a friend who immediately went to inform the local priest – but the latter was at what proved a very thorough prayer session and could not be disturbed, so the informant had to come back later. The priest's name was Bartholomew Wesley, great-grandfather of John, and because of his devotions the king avoided capture by about ten minutes. Bart would have been livid had he known, as he was a committed Puritan._


	18. The Great Escape (III)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> September 1651.   
> Dodging and weaving his way across southern England while his supporters lay a false trail towards the fateful Isle of Wight, the king eventually reaches Shoreham and a ship (all right, a coal-barge) for France. Then Stephen and Brennus are able to return to Oxfordshire and their lovers, both of whom are thankfully recovered from their recent illnesses – although both men might not find it that thankful!

**September 1651**   
**Trent, Somersetshire, ENGLAND**

“The king is set for Heale, near Salisbury”, Stephen said as they prepared their horses. “I thought it would be best for us to strike off at right-angles again, south-east towards Poole and then along the Hampshire coast as if we were trying to get across to the Isle of Wight.”

“Not a happy place for the king's late father”, Brennus said shrewdly. “And a bit of a dead-end. Would the king really go there?”

“He went through Lyme which despite its name defied his father during the war”, Stephen pointed out. “His friends sold me that they have hopes he may be able to escape from one of the small Sussex ports further along the coast, so we shall move on and meet him at Hambledon in Hampshire on the twelfth. Also, the further east we go the shorter the potential crossing, which reduces the danger.”

Brennus nodded, and they mounted their steeds.

MDCLI

**September 1651**  
 **Totton, Hampshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen could see exactly the moment when the over-officious soldier's second-in-command got it, from the startled look on the fellow's face. Unfortunately his superior was in full rant and not inclined to notice his subordinate's frantic signalling.

“Travelling around the country at a time like this”, Captain Edwards sniffed, looking down his nose at them both, “and without an adequate reason.”

“It is a free country, sir”, Stephen said, smiling knowingly in a way which would, he knew, annoy the fellow even more.

“I am going to have to report this all the way to the top, sir”, the captain sniffed. “I shall write to my Lord Cromwell and let him know. You might be in league with those infernal Royalists for all we know!”

“Sir....” his subordinate began.

“Shut up, Fox!” the soldier snapped. “I am in charge here. Where are you headed, sir?”

“I need to visit Chichester on private business, soldier”, Stephen said. “But feel free to write to Mr. Cromwell if you must, although I doubt that he will pay much attention to the pestering of some backwater soldier.”

“We shall see”, the captain snorted. “Good day, sir!”

He swept from the room, his worried-looking subordinate following him. Brennus waited until they had gone before smiling.

“Do you think Mr. Cromwell will do anything, sir?” he asked.

“Likely send the idiot to the Barbadoes for badgering him at a time like this”, Stephen smiled. “Hopefully by the time the letter gets to him we shall have the king safely on his way to France. Let us go!”

MDCLI

**September 1651**  
 **Upper Beeding, Sussex, ENGLAND**

The two men were sat at a small wayside inn, just a few miles from the coast. The rain was beating down outside and Stephen thought that he could almost smell the sea air. 

The innkeeper bustled in from outside.

“Blowing a gale out there”, he says conversationally. “I took some food out to that servant of yours, sirs; hope you don't mind. You gentlemen travelling through?”

“Yes”, Stephen said shortly. 

The innkeeper smiled knowingly.

“You know, it's just turned midday”, he said. “Every day at this time, regular as clockwork, the soldiers manning the coast road gate just south of here sod off to the local tavern there for lunch. And they don't leave anyone on duty. Sloppy, I call it.”

He gave Stephen a knowing look and walked away.

“I think that a breath of sea-air right now would do us all the world of good”, Stephen said, quickly downing his drink. “Shall we depart?”

He was less than surprised when the innkeeper pressed a loaf of bread into his possession as he paid.

MDCLI

**September 1651**  
 **Brighthelmstone¹, Sussex, ENGLAND**

There were many interesting and scenic places along the south coast, Stephen was sure. This small, run-down and inconsequential fishing-port was however definitely not one of them. But at least it was by the sea.

And they were so close. Although the owner of the George Inn where they had ended up staying had, in one of those twists of Fate which seemed to beset the king, recognized him. Fortunately the fellow had turned out to be a retired royal servant, as he had fallen on his knees before his former master.

“That and those soldiers who galloped by us at Bramber”, Brennus whispered. “What a day!”

Stephen could not but agree. He was also decidedly wary about the captain of the coal-barge who, suspicious of having to take any passenger at a time like this, had demanded an extra two hundred pounds² 'danger money'. 

“His vessel, such as it is, is called the 'Surprise'³”, he said. “Not really a king's vessel but then it should not draw suspicion as a result. It is due to sail in the small hours of Thursday morning.”

Which, to both of them, seemed a lifetime away.

MDCLI

**September 1651**  
 **Shoreham, Sussex, ENGLAND**

The barge had seemed to take an age to edge slowly out to sea in the dim morning light, though Stephen knew that that was just the captain taking precautions. Any ship sailing directly away from the coast towards France might well attract attention. But it seemed an eternity before the black dot disappeared over the horizon without anything coming along to challenge it. Stephen drew a deep breath.

“Home?” Brennus said.

“As if you have to ask!” Stephen shot back.

They rode swiftly along the coast road, heading back west towards Chichester as the sun rose behind them. The mighty cathedral's steeple loomed over the town, a welcoming sight as it dominated the skyline for miles around. The road (such as it was) that they were on was an old Roman one and continued on to the small port of Portchester now overshadowed by its replacement, the great naval base of Portsmouth next door, after which they pushed across country to Winchester. There was clearly no way that they were going to reach home before dark, but neither man showed any inclination to slow down, although they did stop in the old West Saxon capital to purchase some sandwiches.

Stephen thought back to when he and Jamie had come here to see one Charles Stuart before he met his end; now he had 'turned his coat' for his lover's sake and had helped another Charles Stuart to escape his enemies. It was a strange world.

The going was harder as they left the Itchen Valley and pushed north from the city, the countryside both hillier and emptier. A few isolated villages were all they encountered before they passed the battlefield town of Newbury, nestling in the Kennett Valley, before more hills and vales slowed them down again. Brennus did not suggest that they stop for supper but he did take advantage of a rest break in the town to buy some pastries from a bakery that was just shutting its doors in the village of East Ilsley. 

They passed through Abingdon, recovering now after its role as a frontier town in the wars, and were soon riding down towards Oxford, eerily quiet on this cold autumn evening. It was dark now so the gates were closed and they had to ride around the city. King's Linton had no walls to keep them out but Brennus reined up just south of the town.

“I am for my own man”, he said, his voice unnaturally loud in the blueness of the night. “I wish you Godspeed, my lord, and thank you for such an adventure.”

They shook hands and parted, and Stephen watched his friend disappear into the town before he himself rode up the Banbury road as far as the Charlton turning. Then it was through the village, across the ford and he was riding up to the front of the Hall. He unlocked the stables and made sure Captain was all right before returning to the house. His love was now so close!

He entered quietly, leaving his boots untidily by the door for once and proceeding stocking-footed up the huge staircase to his and Jamie's room. It was around midnight, he thought, so his love would surely not....

He was barely in the room before he found himself being all but assaulted by his lover. Apparently Jamie had heard him coming.

“Over a month without sex!” the soldier snarled. “You, bed, now!”

Stephen trembled, and hastened to obey. He knew his place!

MDCLI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) Now the city of Brighton. Think San Francisco but with less class. You can stop shaking now._   
>  _2) About £29,000 ($36,000) at 2020 prices._   
>  _3) Purchased by Charles the Second upon the Restoration, refitted for use as a royal yacht and renamed 'H.M.Y. Royal Escape'._


End file.
